t on firmer ground, the mare well warmed, he
gave her the rein and let her out into a long, low, easy lope that
scored the miles off famously. And so he swept on throughout the
night, with only brief halts to cool the mare and give her a mouthful
of water, through Puerta de Luna, past the Canon Pintado, up the Rio
Gallinas, past sleeping freighters' camps and Mexican _placitas_.
Twice he was fired upon by alarmed campers who mistook him for a savage
marauder, but luckily the shots flew wild.

The last ten miles the noble mare nearly gave out, but, a friend's life
the stake he was riding for, Scot's quirt and spurs lifted her through.

Half an hour after sunrise, before many in the town were out of bed,
Scot rode into the plaza of Las Vegas and turned out the doctor, whom
he knew.

Dr. D---- was no coward by any means, but it took all Scot's eloquence
and persuasiveness to induce him to consent to hazard a daylight
journey through to Sumner, for he well knew its dangers. Scarcely a
week passed without news of some fearful massacre or desperate defence.
But, stirred by Scot's own heroism or perhaps tempted by the heavy fee
to be earned, he consented.

Having breakfasted and gotten the best team in town hitched to a light
buckboard, Scot and the doctor were rolling away into the south on the
Sumner trail before seven o'clock, over long stretches of level grassy
mesa and past tall black volcanic buttes.

Driving on without interruption or incident, shortly after noon they
approached the head of the Arroyo de los Enteros, down which the trail
descended to the lower levels of the great Pecos Valley. Enteros Canon
is about three miles long, rarely more than two hundred yards wide, its
sides rocky, precipitous, and heavily timbered, through which wound the
wagon trail, exposed at every point to a perfect ambuscade. It was the
most dreaded stretch of the Vegas-Sumner road, but Scot and the doctor
drew near it without a misgiving, for no sign of the savage enemy had
they seen.

Just before reaching the head of the canon, the road wound round a high
butte. Bowling rapidly along, Scot half dozing with fatigue, the
doctor, unused to the plains, alert and watchful, they suddenly turned
the hill and came out upon the immediate head of the canon, when
suddenly the doctor cried, seizing Scot's arm:

"Good God, Scott, look! For God's sake, look!"

And it was time. There on either hand, to their right and to their
left, t