her. At first Frank thought
she was mad or in a fit, but as he came nearer she sat up and made
demonstrations of joy at his approach. He dismounted, and found her in
the condition already described. On the ground was a chip, neatly cut
and shaven, which she was in vain attempting to take between her
sealed jaws. Frank understood the matter at once. Whenever Victoriana
was sent on a message she was given a stick to deliver. It was plain
that some one had sent her to either Frank or me. Of course, it could
have been no one but Henry. She had come thus far, and had stepped
into a bed of _cholla_. In trying to remove the needles from her feet
she had absolutely sealed her mouth; in the attempt to recover the
chip she had made the movements that had attracted the boy's
attention.

Nothing was written on the stick. Around the dog's neck was tied a
cravat of dirty buck-skin. Untying and opening it, Frank found the
inner surface covered with writing, evidently traced in berry-juice
with a quill or a stick. It read as follows:

"Captured by the Navajos. Am herding ponies north of Twin
Buttes, at the head of Carizo. Come to butte with cavalry,
and wave handkerchief from left peak about noon. If I do not
come, look for me in plain north of butte. Don't worry; I'm
all right.

"HENRY."

I remained at the fire long after every one had returned to their beds
or duty, busy in extracting the _cholla_ spines from Vic's mouth and
feet. The dog seemed to understand the necessity of the treatment she
was receiving, and bore the pain submissively, with only occasional
moans and cries, until the operation ended. She then received a drink
of water, and went to bed with Frank.

At daybreak the rescue detachment left camp, retraced our route to the
Carizo, where Corporal Frank put us upon the trail of the Indians. We
climbed to the highest point reached by the path, and saw it descend
on the opposite side to a brook, deep in the valley. Here we halted,
took the horses a short distance down the slope we had just ascended,
picketed them in a grassy nook, and Frank and I started to ascend the
left peak.

"Mr. Baldwin," I said, as I moved away, "when you see us start to
return, saddle and bridle as rapidly as possible, so as to be ready
for emergencies."

"I'll do so. You can depend upon us to be ready when wanted," was the
reply.

We scrambled through a scattering growth of pinon and junipers for
several