Hal, who had evidently been expecting the invitation for some time, at once seated himself, and, with Jerry, Ned and myself as listeners, commenced as follows:--

"When Anastacio and I started for Fort Davis, we hadn't been on the road fifteen minutes, before five Indians set upon us, from a thicket by the road side.

"They followed up the attack so briskly, that before we had time to think, they had our revolvers, and our hands tied behind us. They then took our horses and mounted us upon two of their own. We travelled over the roughest, hardest country I ever saw in my life, until daybreak, when they stopped at a spring to water.

"Here they stripped us of most of our clothes, and made us ride bare-backed until noon, when they stopped for a few minutes. I noticed that, whenever they halted, one of them always rode to the top of the highest hill near, and remained on the lookout there, until we were ready to start again.

"Before we had been long at this last place, the lookout signaled, and, in about an hour, eight more Indians joined us, with Juanita.

"She was very tired and terribly frightened, but when she saw me she just cried for joy, and I tried to comfort her as much as I could; but, while I was talking to her, a great, greasy-looking fellow came up to me, and, taking me by the collar, pulled me away, and, putting the muzzle of my own revolver to my head, made signs that, if I dared to speak "--

Here Patsey came running up, yelling at the top of his voice,--

"The bear's goned! The bear's goned!" Hal and Ned jumped to their feet, exclaiming,--"Which way did he go?" and, without waiting for a reply, darted off in search of him.

CHAPTER XIV.

"I hope they won't git the critter: he ain't nothin' but a cussid nuisance, no how," said Jerry, as Hal disappeared in the gloaming.

"It's so dark they won't be very likely to," was my reply.

"I 'spect the Irishman had a hand in startin' him," continued Jerry.

"He's owed the critter a grudge ever since he tarred his clo'es so, the other night."

"How was that, Jerry?" inquired I.

"Why, yer see the boy had been a-proddin' the critter with a sharp stick; and, arter he got through, he was a-standin' by the wagon, and the bar made a jump and ketched him right by his trousers-leg. This kind er scart the feller, and he made a leap, and left the biggest part of his breeches in the critter's mouth. Ned laughed, and told him, that one bar(e) in camp was enough, and he'd better go an' mend up--thar he is, now,"

pointing towards one of the wagons.

I called him, and he came towards me, looking decidedly guilty. I said to him, "Patsey, how did the bear get away?"

"He runned away, sure, sur."

"Yes; but how did he get loose?"

"He aited the rope aff, I suppose, sure. I seed him goin', and thought it'd be no harm to spake to the boys, sur."

"That was all right, Patsey; but you didn't turn him loose, did you?"

"I turn him loose, sur! Phat would I be doin' that fur?"

"Well, why didn't you go out and help find him?"

"I was afraid, sur;" examining the huge rent in his pantaloons.

"Afraid!" said I. "What under the sun was you afraid of? your bare legs?"

"Will, sur, I didn't know what the quinisquences might be if two bears (bares) happened to mate in the woods."

Just here Jerry gave one of his peculiar chuckles; and, seeing that I got but little information from the boy, I dismissed him with the remark, that, when we got to Tucson, he should have a suit of clothes.

"That'll _suit_ me, your honor," was the reply, as he moved briskly off.

The boys soon returned, after an unsuccessful search for the bear.

Hal was disposed to blame everybody but himself for the escape, while Ned, with whom the bear had never been a great favorite, was inclined to laugh at the matter, to Hal's great disgust.

His ill nature reached its culminating point, however, when Jerry suggested, that, "if he lied fifteen dollars more to git rid of, he'd better bury it than give it for a cussid, good-for-nothin' bar, that warn't nothin' but a infernal nuisance to everybody, anyway."

Hal accepted the gauntlet thus thrown down by Jerry, and was about to reply in no very polite language, when I changed the conversation, by requesting him to finish the narrative of his visit to the Apaches; and, after a little hesitation, he resumed his story as follows:--

"The Indian told me, that, if I spoke to Juanita again, he'd send a bullet through my head; so Anastacio said, for the Indian spoke in Spanish.

"I didn't talk to her any more for several hours, but rode all the afternoon by her side. When we got to the top of the bluff from which we could see the Rio Grande, Juanita cried, and said that her home was there, and Anastacio felt so bad for her that he led her horse all the way after that.

"When we got to the river, instead of crossing, the Indians rode into it; and they made us all wade through the water for three or four miles, though the whole party came out on the same side. From here we struck into the prairie again; and, after riding for two or three hours, we camped.

"Juanita was so tired, she dropped to sleep as soon as we stopped; but Anastacio and I kept awake, and saw the Indians cast a mule, and open his veins and suck the warm blood from them. After this, they cut off portions of the flesh and roasted it over the coals, and made motions to us, that, if we wanted any, we must cook for ourselves.

"We were both hungry, but we couldn't eat mule meat, then, although we had to come to it in a little time.

"We started by daybreak the next morning; and Juanita became so exhausted, that, before night, she asked me two or three times to kill her. Finally, she appealed to Anastacio; and I heard him promise her, on a little cross she wore around her neck, that, if worse came to worse, he would do it.

"That day one of the Indians killed an antelope, and we all ate heartily of it, but Anastacio. He took the meat they gave to him, and saved it for Juanita. He carried it in his hand all day, and walked beside her horse, telling her stories in Spanish, and trying to cheer her. He was as kind to her as he could be, during the whole seventeen days we were together.

"One night we slept in a great cave in a mountain,[Probably the Waco Mountain, thirty miles east of El Paso.] where there were four or five deep pools, of nice, clear water. Juanita was so delighted at the sight of them that she sat on the brink of one and put her feet in it, to 'rest them,' she said. When the Indians saw her do this, one of them struck her with his quirt [A small, heavy whip.] over the shoulders.

"Anastacio sprang at him like a wild beast, and I believe would have killed him, but the other Indians took him off. They seemed greatly amused at the fight; but said they were only saving us for their squaws to torture, after they got us home.

"After this they made us all walk; although Juanita's feet and ankles were swelled so terribly that she could scarcely move: whenever Anastacio got the chance though, he carried her in his arms.

"One day one of the Indians brought her some fresh mule's blood to drink, and, because she wouldn't take it, he threw it in her face, and told her in Spanish, that, when they got to their village, he should make her his squaw. This made her cry terribly; and I heard Anastacio tell her he'd certainly kill her, before the Indians should have her. After that I thought she seemed happier, and repeatedly said, if she could only see her dear old father once more, she should be glad to die.

"We all suffered terribly from fatigue and thirst; for, after they thought Juanita was going to drown herself in the pool, they were very cross to us, and used to make us do all their work about the camp. If we refused, they stuck sharp-pointed knives into us, and struck us with their quirts; though, after Anastacio made the fuss, they didn't strike Juanita any more.

"The night you rescued us was the first time they hadn't put a guard out, since we were captured.

"You see, they always sent one of their party back a mile or two, to watch the trail, so as to avoid being surprised; but they had got so near home, they didn't dream of being pursued, I suppose.

"That day Anastacio told me they were talking of having a big dance when they got to the village, and he was going to kill Juanita before we reached it. He cried about it, and wanted to know if I supposed the Blessed Virgin would forgive him if he did it. We'd just been talking about it, when we heard the crack of Tom's rifle, and saw the Indians run towards the wood.

"I tell you what it was, when I heard that shot, I felt that it wasn't an Indian's gun (it didn't sound a bit like one), and my heart jumped right up into my mouth.

"The Indians appeared so anxious about Juanita, that they seemed to forget Anastacio and I, when they heard the rifle. We both run for the hut, and saw that she wasn't there, and supposed the Indians had taken her. Then we heard the soldiers' guns, and run towards them; and, the next I knew, I met Ned, and was hugging and kissing him just like a girl, I was so glad to see him. I tell you 'twas jolly, though; and, when I found that Juanita was all right, I felt like dancing and crying in the same minute.

"One thing is certain: you saved Anastacio from killing Juanita, for she never would have gone into that village alive."