hat fatal loop of the river. It is deep and
swift here. Down on the sands by its very edge they fell. Not a white
man escaped. The Indians, after their savage fashion, gathered the
booty, leaving a score of naked, mutilated bodies by the river's side.
It was a cruel bit of Western warfare, yet it held back from Kansas a
diabolical outrage, whose suffering and horror only those who know the
Southwest tribes can picture. And strangely enough, the power that
stayed the evil lay with a handful of faithful Indian scouts.

The story of the massacre soon reached the Mission. Dreadful as it was,
it lifted a burden from Le Claire's mind; but the news that the
Comanches and the Kiowas, unable to restrain their tribes, were already
on the war-path, filed him with dread.

A twenty-four hours' rain, with cloudbursts along the way, was now
sending the Neosho and Verdigris Rivers miles wide, across their
valleys. It was impossible for him to intercept these tribes until the
stream should fall. The priest perfected his plans for overtaking them
by swift messengers to be sent out from the Mission at the earliest
moment, and then he turned his horse upstream toward Springvale. All day
he rode with all speed to the northward. The ways were sodden with the
heavy rains, and the smaller streams were troublesome to the horseman.
Night fell long before he had come to the upper Neosho Valley. With the
darkness his anxiety deepened. A thousand chances might befall to bring
disaster before he could reach us.

The hours of the black night dragged on, and northward still the priest
hurried. It was long after midnight when he found himself on the bluff
opposite the town. Between him and Springvale the Neosho rushed madly,
and the oak grove of the bottom land was only black treetops above, and
water below. All hope of a safe passage across the river here vanished,
for he durst not try the angry waters.

"There must have been heavier rains here than down the stream," he
thought. "Pray Heaven the messengers may reach the Kiowas before they
fall upon any of the settlements in the south. I must go farther up to
cross. O God, grant that no evil may threaten that town over there!"

Turning to look once more at the dark valley his eye caught a gleam of
light far down the river.

"That must be Jean down at the Hermit's Hole," he said to himself. "I
wonder I never tried to follow him there. But if he's down the river it
is better for Springvale, anyhow.