d in," in search of a good night's rest.
CHAPTER VIII.
The following morning, we once more took the road, and for three days
followed the course of the river, which carried us through the most
undesirable portion of country we had yet seen; even game seemed to have
forsaken it.
The route then brought us into the vicinity of the celebrated "Comanche
Springs," situated in the open prairie, at the crossing of the great
Comanche war trail that leads into Mexico--a trail that may with truth,
be said, to be marked with whitened bones, its entire distance.
As we were likely at any time to meet with bands of Comanches in this
neighborhood, it became necessary to travel with the greatest precaution;
but even this did not appear to prevent one of the "varmints," as old
Jerry called him, from boldly coming into camp the next day, without any
one having seen his approach. Hal was the first who discovered him, and
as the fellow was alone, begged so hard for permission for him to remain,
that I yielded a reluctant assent, and permitted him to come into camp.
The fellow claimed to be very hungry, a good friend of the whites, and
said he was on his way from Mexico, to his home on the Brazos, and only
wanted permission to remain, long enough to rest a little and obtain
something to eat.
"I don't like the cut of any of them varmints," said Jerry, "they're all
natral thieves, and ez likely ez not, thet cuss is a spy. We can't tell
nothin' 'bout 'em, and ther best way is, ter steer clear on 'em, or at
any rate keep 'em at good rifle range."
Telling Hal not to lose sight of the fellow for an instant, and as soon
as he had rested an hour, to start him on, I laid down under one of the
wagons for the purpose of taking a _siesta_, but was awakened by
hearing Hal loudly inquiring, if any body knew what had become of his
pony. No one appeared to know anything about it, but I heard Jerry's
voice suggest, that probably his Comanche friend could tell where it was.
This aroused me in an instant, and I crawled out from under the wagon,
and, calling Hal, asked him where his horse was, when he saw him last.
He replied,--
"I saw him not half an hour ago, within twenty yards of this spot."
"How did he get away? pull his picket-pin?" asked I.
"No," replied Hal, "the lariat looks as though it had been cut."
"It's plain enuff to tell who's got yer hoss; it's that Comanche. Them
varmints are nat'ral hoss thieves, any how."
"Do yo
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