ten track, and turned south. The trail itself, dustless and
packed hard, revealed nothing, but some five hundred yards beyond the
ravine he discovered what he sought--here two wagons had turned sharply
to the left, their wheels cutting deeply enough into the prairie sod to
show them heavily laden. With the experience of the border he was able
to determine that these wagons were drawn by mules, two span to each,
their small hoofs clearly defined on the turf, and that they were being
driven rapidly, on a sharp trot as they turned, and then, a hundred feet
further, at a slashing gallop. Just outside their trail appeared the
marks of a galloping horse. A few rods farther along Keith came to a
confused blur of pony tracks sweeping in from the east, and the whole
story of the chase was revealed as though he had witnessed it with his
own eyes. They must have been crazy, or else impelled by some grave
necessity, to venture along this trail in so small a party. And they
were travelling west--west! Keith drew a deep breath, and swore to
himself, "Of all the blame fools!"

He perceived the picture in all its grewsome details--the two mule-drawn
wagons moving slowly along the trail in the early morning; the band of
hostile Indians suddenly swooping out from some obscure hiding place
in the bluffs; the discovery of their presence; the desperate effort at
escape; the swerving from the open trail in vain hope of reaching the
river and finding protection underneath its banks; the frightened
mules galloping wildly, lashed into frenzy by the man on horseback; the
pounding of the ponies' hoofs, punctuated by the exultant yells of the
pursuers. Again he swore:

"Of all the blame fools!"

Chapter II. The Scene of Tragedy

Whatever might be the nature of the tragedy it would be over with long
before this, and those moving black spots away yonder to the west, that
he had discerned from the bluff, were undoubtedly the departing raiders.
There was nothing left for Keith to do except determine the fate of the
unfortunates, and give their bodies decent burial. That any had escaped,
or yet lived, was altogether unlikely, unless, perchance, women had been
in the party, in which case they would have been borne away prisoners.

Confident that no hostiles would be left behind to observe his
movements, Keith pressed steadily forward, leading his horse. He had
thus traversed fully half a mile before coming upon any evidence of a
fight--he