the ambulance, and two of the
horses were also visible, and occasionally the lithe forms of the Tontos
scurrying about in the firelight. Evidently the old cook fire in the
cleft of the rocks had been stirred up and was now being utilized by
half the band, while the others toasted the bacon and roasted _frijoles_
down in the road. The yells had long since ceased. Many of the warriors
were squatting about the baggage wagon gnawing at hard bread or other
unaccustomed luxuries, but those at the ambulance were chattering like
so many monkeys and keeping up a hammering, the object of which Pike
could not at first imagine, until he suddenly remembered the locked box
under the driver's seat, the key of which was always carried by the
captain. Then a flash of hope shot over him as he recalled the fact that
when they left their station Captain Gwynne had stowed away in there
three or four bottles of whiskey or brandy. It would take them but a
little while, he knew, to break into the enclosure, and then there would
be a bacchanalian scene.

"Oh, that it were a barrel instead of a bottle or two," groaned Pike.
"As it is there's just enough to exhilarate the gang and keep them,
singing and dancing all night; but a barrel!--that would stupefy them
one after another and Jim and I could have gone down and murdered the
whole crowd. Not one of 'em would ever have known what hurt him."

Ha! a sound of crashing, splitting wood. A rush, a scuffle--then a yell
of triumph and delight. Every Indian in the roadway sprang to his feet
and darted off up the rocks to swell the chorus at the ambulance. Even
Manuelito's guard left his prisoner to take care of himself and ran like
a deer to claim his share of the madly craved "fire water." A few years
before and most of them hardly knew its taste, but some of their number
had more than once made "John Barleycorn's" acquaintance and had told
wondrous tales of its effects. In less than a minute, with the single
exception of their sentry on the hill, every Tonto was struggling,
shouting, laughing and leaping about the family wagon, and Pike knew
from the sounds that the captain's little store of liquor was rapidly
disappearing. Every moment the noise waxed louder and fiercer as the
deep potations of the principal Indians did their poisonous work. There
were shrill altercations, vehement invective and reproach; Pike even
hoped for a minute that there had been enough after all to start them
fighting among