I obtained permission from department head-quarters
to employ the elder Cordova as spy and guide, and he was of invaluable
use to us. He was able to show me a mountain-trail into the valley of
San Antonio besides the one through La Puerta, which I kept in reserve
for any desperate emergency which might make it necessary to use
another. We frequently went trout-fishing with an armed party, and
could pack a mule with fish in a few hours.
One morning, near the close of October, Cordova left the camp before
reveille on a solitary hunting-trip in order to reach Los Vallecitos,
four miles to the south of our valley, before sunrise.
He had gone but half an hour, and I was dressing after first
bugle-call for reveille, when I was startled by the rapid approach of
some one running towards my door. Presently the guide tumbled into the
cabin, gasping:
"Muchos Navajos, teniente, muchos Navajos!" (Many Navajos, lieutenant,
many Navajos!)
"Where are they, and how many?" I asked.
"About half a league over the ridge," pointing to the south.
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