At
half-past nine o'clock the three of us started, Vic bounding and
barking at my horse's head.
IV
IN A NAVAJO TRAP
Six miles from Jemez our road, which, after leaving the cultivated
valley of the Pueblos had narrowed to a path, entered the forest and
ran along the side of a small brook, which it continued to follow for
several miles, and then rose gradually to the side of a range of
hills. We were walking our animals along the side of this acclivity,
at a considerable distance above the brook on our left, their hoofs
making no noise in the soft, black earth, when I was startled by the
braying of an ass somewhere in the ravine.
Sergeant Cunningham and Corporal Frank threw themselves quickly from
their saddles and held the horses by the bits to prevent them from
responding to the greeting, and I quickly sought a place from which I
could make an observation.
We were in a clump of evergreen trees which commanded a view of the
ravine and obscured us from sight in all directions. Looking across
the ravine, I caught a glimpse of a party of Indians a little beyond
the brook.
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