He shook his head.

"They haven't been around since the fire and the pack horses are gone."

My heart sank and a sensation of absolute loneliness came over me. Here we were, the two of us, with no one to aid us. Only a short supply of ammunition. It certainly was a desperate situation.

"Cheer up," said Jim. "Here is something to wet your whistle."

He handed over the canteen. I seized it eagerly. I would not have exchanged its old battered tin hulk for diamonds or gold.

I raised it eagerly to my lips and let a stream gurgle down my throat.

Talk about whiskey and its enthusiastic effects, I never tasted anything more intoxicating than that water. It made me feel absolutely dizzy.

"What next?" I asked.

"There is nothing to do but to look for them."

"Yes," I said, "I suppose we had better work down to the plains."

"Not much," replied Jim. "You take my word for it that they are back in the range. Ten chances to one if we went down we would fall into the hands of the Apaches."

"Back to the woods for me then," I said very promptly.

"Let's walk a ways and rest the ponies," suggested Jim.

"All right," I said. "I have been cooped up so long in that fort that I won't mind having a chance to stretch my legs."

So we walked up the grade towards the summit we had left a little while before, the ponies following us like obedient dogs, while Santa took the lead. In an hour we had reached the top of the long ridge or rather mountain, which dominated the various canyons like little pigs near the mother sow.

The fires were still burning everywhere and we could see the skirmish line of the main fire eating its way in irregular outline along the darkened plain.

"It's up to you, Jim," I said, "which way now? You are the guide for this party."

"Over the hills and far away," he cried. "All aboard for the grand canyon."

And he swung into the saddle. There was something in the cheek of him that called out my admiration, even if I was his brother. To think of the object of our trip when it seemed the most impossible thing in the world to obtain. But it was like Jim.

"You see the outline of that mountain over there?" he asked, pointing to the West. "The one above the fire line?"

"Yes," I replied.

"That's the one I'm going to make for. When we get to the summit I am going to build a big signal fire that can be seen all over this country.

Then we shall see 'what we shall see.'"

"Yes," I replied, "we 'shall see' the whole tribe of Apaches."

"Don't you worry," replied Jim. "If we once get our party together we will stand them off."

We now left the summit of the long ridge and rode down a long spur that tended down into a deep cross valley.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Three o'clock," he replied, "we will soon hear the roosters crowing."

In an hour's time we had reached the depth of the valley. It must have been beautiful a few hours before, but now it was as black as the Valley of The Shadow.

"Look here, Jim, there's quite a stream," I cried.

"Good luck," yelled Jim. "Now our horses can have a drink."

They certainly made the most of it. The water throbbed down their long throats in regular piston strokes. No matter if the water was discolored and tasted of ashes and charcoal, Santa, too, made the most of it.

After the ponies had satisfied their thirst we crossed to the opposite side and Jim scanned the barren bulk of the mountain that rose above us.

He was looking for the best line of ascent.

"Jo, did you hear that?" exclaimed Jim in great excitement.

"It sounded like two rifle shots close together," I answered. "Now, we are in for it. We never will escape the Apaches this time."

"Ho, ho," laughed Jim. "Apaches! That was the captain's rifle as sure as I stand here. That was no old carbine."

We waited, listening intently. Then we fired two shots apiece simultaneously. Then in a minute came the answering signal. Two rifles this time.

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Whoop la," we yelled. It seemed to me the most joyful moment of my life. The captain and Tom found again after the terrible perils we had been through.

We urged our ponies in the direction of the shots and Santa sprang away in the lead. He would be the first to welcome the captain and Tom. In five minutes we saw the dark outlines of two mounted men and two horses following.

We met on the spur of the mountain with only the livid light of a burning pine nearby to enable us to distinguish each other. The captain swung from his horse and gripped Jim by the hand, then he took my hand likewise. "Well met," he exclaimed.

For a moment there was silence, then Jim spoke up.

"That was a deuce of a big fire you started, captain," he said. "You must have been pretty cold."

The captain smiled grimly.

"I could tell that was you from that remark, but your appearance is deceiving. You look considerably like a n.i.g.g.e.r."

"We thought that we wouldn't see you fellows again," said Tom. "You must have been through it, the way you look."

"Come, boys," said the captain, "the first thing for us to do is to get above the fire line and camp. We thought we had lost Santa. How did you get him?"

"He got us," I answered.

"It's all right now. He went off on a trail of his own," commented the captain. "I'm glad that he located you."

We now proceeded up the mountain on the back trail, the captain in the lead. After a while daylight came and it showed a scene of desolation below us. The blackened trees, some standing, thousands fallen, the pallid smoke rising from mountain slopes and curling out of deep canyons.

Above us, however, was a brighter prospect, for below the snow fields were the unscarred pines and the ravines where were the clear streams.

After an hour's hard climb we were among the trees with bushes, and here and there bunches of gra.s.ses and of flowers. It seemed like paradise to our fire scorched eyes. We made our camp in a wide ravine, near a pleasant stream.