The pack-trains had much difficulty in getting along. Six mules slipped from the trail, and rolled over and over until they struck the bottom of the cañon. Fortunately they had selected a comparatively easy grade, and none was badly hurt. The scouts became more and more vigilant and the “medicine-men” more and more devotional. When camp was made the high peaks were immediately picketed, and all the approaches carefully examined. Fires were allowed only in rare cases, and in positions affording absolute concealment. Before going to bed the scouts were careful to fortify themselves in such a manner that surprise was simply impossible. Late at night (May 8th) the “medicine-men” gathered together for the never-to-be-neglected duty of singing and “seeing” the Chiricahuas. After some palaver I succeeded in obtaining the privilege of sitting in the circle with them. All but one chanted in a low, melancholy tone, half song and half grunt. The solitary exception lay as if in a trance for a few moments, and then, half opening his lips, began to thump himself violently in the breast, and to point to the east and north, while he muttered: “Me can’t see the Chilicahuas yet. Bimeby me see ’um. Me catch ’um, me kill ’um. Me no catch ’um, me no kill ’um. Mebbe so six day me catch ’um; mebbe so two day. Tomollow me send twenty-pibe (25) men to hunt ’um tlail. Mebbe so tomollow catch ’um squaw. Chilicahua see me, me no get ’um. No see me, me catch him. Me see him little bit now. Mebbe so me see ’um more tomollow. Me catch ’um, me kill ’um. Me catch ’um hoss, me catch ’um mool (mule), me catch ’um cow. Me catch Chilicahua pooty soon, bimeby. Me kill ’um heap, and catch ’um squaw.” These prophecies, translated for me by an old friend in the circle who spoke some English, were listened to with rapt attention and reverence by the awe-struck scouts on the exterior. The succeeding day brought increased trouble and danger. The mountains became, if anything, steeper; the trails, if anything, more perilous. Carcasses of mules, ponies, and cows lined the path along which we toiled, dragging after us worn-out horses. It was not yet noon when the final ridge of the day was crossed and the trail turned down a narrow, gloomy, and rocky gorge, which gradually widened into a small amphitheatre. This, the guide said, was the stronghold occupied by the Chiricahuas while he was with them; but no one was there now. For all purposes of defense, it was admirably situated. Water flowed in a cool, sparkling stream through the middle of the amphitheatre. Pine, oak, and cedar in abundance and of good size clung to the steep flanks of the ridges, in whose crevices grew much grass. The country, for a considerable distance, could be watched from the pinnacles upon which the savage pickets had been posted, while their huts had been so scattered and concealed in the different brakes that the capture or destruction of the entire band could never have been effected.