“Now,” said the scout, “we’ll hunt up a scrap of shade and try to understand how you got here, Nick, along with a few other details that are easier to comprehend than the mysterious things that happened to Dell and me last night.” “Jest er minit, pards, afore we dip inter thet,” said the trapper. Bounding off down the trail, he disappeared from sight behind the turn. “Where has he gone?” queried Dell. “To look after those two Apaches who came down on us while we were hung up at the brink,” the scout answered, leading the way to the stone on which he and the girl had found themselves when their senses returned. “Ah, yes,” mused Dell, seating herself at the scout’s side, “I had forgotten the Apaches. I saw them while I was swinging over the cliff. Did Nomad frighten them away?” “No. They came down the trail on all fours, acting like a pair of coyotes. When they reached me, they sprang over and went sniffing and snarling down the trail. They acted as though they were locoed.” Dell started and dropped a hand on the scout’s arm. “Can it be----” she began, and suddenly stopped. “That they drank from the same pool that played hob with us?” finished Buffalo Bill. “I shouldn’t wonder, Dell. Nothing else could have caused a pair of murderous reds to pass me by like they did. I was utterly helpless to defend myself. One swift blow would have done the work.” “But if Geronimo had doctored that little pool of water, wouldn’t he have warned his followers to beware of it?” “One would naturally think so. We’re only guessing at things now, and, as I said before, one guess is as good as another.” At that moment Nomad returned. “Couldn’t find ther pizen whelps,” he announced, dropping down at Buffalo Bill’s side. “I never set eyes on sich crazy varmints. At fust I thort they was creepin’ up on you an’ Dell, but they acted so plumb bughouse, I didn’t know what ter think.” “Where were you, Nick, when you called to me?” the scout asked. Nomad lifted his eyes and waved a hand toward the top of the cliff. “Up thar,” said he. “Up thar, an’ gazin’ down on ye. When I seen Dell go over, I couldn’t drap ter ther trail without mebbyso breakin’ my neck, so I had ter hunt fer er place ter come down. When I found ther place, an’ got down, I was skeered ter look at ther place whar I’d seen you an’ Dell last. Waugh!” and the old man shook himself. “I was under somethin’ of er strain, too,” he finished. “Did you just happen to find us sitting on this rock here this morning?” “Nary, Buffler. I been follerin’ er mighty devious night trail, I kin tell ye. I jest happened ter find ye last night.” “How?” “I was skirmishin’ in ther direction o’ Bonita, intendin’ ter arrive thar, somehow, ef I didn’t git double-crossed in my calkerlations. I’d been dodgin’ Apaches ever sence I saved my skelp in thet ambush, appeasin’ my hunger with mesquit-beans an’ sichlike forage, feedin’ like er pizen hoss, an’ glad ter git my fodder at thet.