mare to perdition if she
chooses to wander thither. And knowing the ways of that mare, Bronco
Mitchel was reasonable certain that she would seize the very first
opportunity to stray from the camp of her captors--just as she had
strayed from his own camp many a time--with all the mules after her.
So when the Indians had gone far enough to be out of earshot he took
along his rifle, a bridle, and canteen, and dogged their trail. He did
not even go to the trouble of seeking out the soldiers but hung to the
tracks alone, over two ridges of the Mule Mountains and up a lonely
gorge--where, according to his expectations, he met his stock the next
day and, mounting the old bell mare, ran them back to Bisbee canyon.

Other encounters with Victorio's renegades enriched the teamster's
store of experience, but his narrowest escape remained as the climax
of the whole list during the days when old Geronimo was off the
reservation. One torrid noon he had watered his mules and drawn his
lead and trail wagons off the road over in the San Simon country.

At the time it was supposed that no renegades were within a hundred
miles, and Bronco Mitchel felt perfectly safe in taking a siesta under
one of the big vehicles. Suddenly he awakened from a sound sleep; and
when his eyes flew open he found himself gazing into the face of an
Apache warrior.

The Indian was naked save for his turban, a breech-clout, his
boot-moccasins, and the usual belt of cartridges. Even for an Apache
he was unusually ugly; and now as he saw the eyes of the white man
meeting his, he grinned. It was such a grin as an ugly dog gives
before biting. At that instant Bronco Mitchel was laying flat on his
back.

An instant later, without knowing how he did it, Bronco Mitchel was on
all fours with the wagon between him and the renegade. In this posture
he ran for some distance before he could gather his feet under him;
and to stimulate his speed there came from behind him the cracking of
a dozen rifles. He rolled into a shallow arroyo and dived down its
course like a hunted rabbit.

Once he took enough time to look back over his shoulder and saw the
turbaned savages spreading out in his wake. After that he wasted no
energy in rearward glances, but devoted all his strength to the race,
which he won unscathed, and kept on teaming thereafter until the
railroad spoiled the business.

Such incidents as these of Bronco Mitchel's, however, were all in the
day's work and were