"

It was too dark to take in details, but I noticed Chiquita was utterly
exhausted, and that she was covered with foam. Following Clary to my
room, I saw, when the light fell upon Henry's face, that his right
cheek and neck were bleeding, and that his left arm hung unnaturally
limp by the bearer's side.

We placed him upon the bed, and Surgeon Coues, who had now arrived and
pronounced the boy to be simply in a faint from loss of blood and
over-exertion, applied restoratives and brought him back to
consciousness. As Henry's eyelids raised, and he recognized me, he
said, weakly:

"Oh, Mr. Duncan, tell Captain Bayard the Indians have attacked Mr.
Arnold's ranch, and that Mrs. Arnold is dead!"

"Indians attacked the ranch! When?"

"About four o'clock."

"How many?"

"Don't know. Seemed as if there were over a hundred. And don't stop to
worry over me. Don't stop an instant--these scratches are nothing--but
send the soldiers, quick, or Brenda and all will be killed!"

"How did you get away from the ranch? But you are right, this is no
time for talk."

I aroused the other officers instantly, and sent Frank to his brother.
All assembled in my quarters, and, while the surgeon dressed the
wounds in cheek and neck and set a fractured radius, orders for an
expedition to Skull Valley were issued, and Henry told his story.

At the time this incident occurred the Californians had been mustered
out of service and returned to their distant homes, and the garrison
at Fort Whipple consisted of infantry only. But there were many
"dough-boys" who were good riders, and a number of excellent horses
were kept by the quartermaster for emergencies which required speed
and short service.

Captain Bayard gave orders for a sergeant, three corporals, and
twenty-two privates to be got in readiness for mounted service, with
rations for five days. The command was given to me, and Private Tom
Clary immediately applied to be relieved from guard in order to
accompany me. His request was granted.

Sergeant Frank concluded to remain with his brother.

"I know it is rough on you, Frankie," said Henry, "not to have a
chance to win a few scars, too; but I should be dreadfully worried if
you were to go, and I'm worried enough about Brenda now. You must stay
with me."

And so it was settled, and Frank remained behind, lending his pony
Sancho to Private Clary.

During all this preparation, dressing of wounds, and setting of
fractures, Henry