modestly silent.

"Our plan will be," pursues Haynes, "to approach their camp under cover
of night, surround, and so make certain of them. They'll have a camp;
and these Mexican soldiers are such greenhorns, they're sure to keep big
fires burning, if it is only to give them light for their card-playing.
The blaze'll guide us to their squatting-ground, wherever they may make
it."

The captain's scheme seems so rational that no one opposes it. Walt
Wilder in words signifies assent to it, and Hamersley, with, some
reluctance, is at length constrained to do the same.

It is resolved to remain two hours longer in the valley, and then start
for the upper plain. That will give time to recruit their horses on the
nutritious _gramma_ grass, as themselves on the game they have killed
before entering the canon. This hangs plentifully over the horns of
their saddles, in the shape of wild turkeys, haunches of venison, and
pieces of bear meat.

The fire on the cabin hearth and those kindled by the soldiers outside
are still smouldering. They are quickly replenished, and the abandoned
cooking utensils once more called into use. But pointed saplings, and
the iron ramrods of their rifles--the Ranger's ordinary spit--are in
greater demand, and broiling is the style of _cuisine_ most resorted to.

The turkeys are plucked and singed, the venison and bear meat cut into
collops, and soon two score pieces are sputtering in the flames of
half-a-dozen bivouac fires, while the horses, unbridled, are led out
upon their lariats, and given to the grass.

CHAPTER SIXTY.

CROSS-QUESTIONING.

While the Rangers are preparing for their Homeric repast, a group
gathered in front of the jacal is occupied with an affair altogether
different.

The individuals most conspicuous in it are the Texan captain, the guide
Cully, Walt Wilder, and the young Kentuckian, though several besides
take part in the conference.

Two others are concerned in it, though not forming figures in the group.
They are some paces apart, lying on the grass, both bound. These are
the traitor Manuel and the renegade Barbato.

Both Indian and Mexican appear terribly cowed and crestfallen, for both
feel themselves in what Cully or Walt Wilder would call a "bad fix."
They are, in truth, in a dangerous predicament; for, now that Walt and
the Kentuckian have turned up alive, what with the story they have to
tell, added to that already known to the Rangers--comparing n