Jerry had halted the wagons, and, as he was unable
in the dense dust to form any estimate of the number of the foe, was
advancing with the men on foot, at the time they so opportunely fired the
volley which rid me of my foe.

The Apaches left two dead bodies upon the ground; and we, three horses,
while ever after I followed the advice I had so frequently given Hal and
Ned, and kept with the wagons.

My adventure furnished a fruitful theme for conversation around the
camp-fire for many nights. Jerry, Hal, Ned, Patsey, and even the Mexican
teamsters had a theory as to the course they should pursue under the same
circumstances; and I believe it is an unsettled question to this day,
whether I did right in turning back instead of riding forward, after I
heard the order given.

The evening of the succeeding day brought us to the entrance of the
Apache Pass, the only _canon_ through which we could cross the
Chirichui range of mountains, that for many years had been the home of
Cochise's band of Apaches, one of the worst that ever infested the
country. Here, it was necessary to exercise the greatest caution; for the
place was notoriously the most dangerous upon the entire route.

Extra guards were sent out, the animals securely corralled, each man
required to sleep upon his arms, and every precaution taken to enable us
to repel an attack at a moment's notice.

The night passed without any alarm, and Jerry chuckled at the thought
that we should probably get through without being molested. Just as we
were starting, however, it was found that one of our wagons required
repairs, that would cause a delay of several hours. As the water was good
and the grass luxuriant, we concluded to run the risk of an attack, and
to remain for the day where we were and give our animals, which were sent
to graze a limit a mile from camp, a much-needed rest.

Jerry undertook the repair of the wagon; and, as the day was bright, the
boys determined to do some washing.

I had thrown myself upon my blanket, and was lazily admiring the beauties
of an Arizona landscape, when Patsey approached me, and, pulling off his
brimless hat, said, "Ef yer plase, sur, the byze wants to git some
sooap."

"What is it, Patsey?" said I.

"It's the sooap, sur. Where'll the byze git the sooap ter wash wid?"

"Tell them to take a spade, and go and dig some," was my reply.

Patsey looked at me a moment, as though half inclined to think I had
suddenly taken leave