“Good girl!” exclaimed the scout. “The water and food are here, and we might just as well drink and eat as to leave it to the desert-rats.” The scout likewise drank, and Nomad helped himself last. Then, returning to the daylight in front of the cavern, they parceled out the jerked venison and the corn-cakes and made a hasty meal. “What next, Buffler?” asked Nomad, priming his pipe and borrowing a match from the scout. “Ef we’re at ther end o’ Bascomb’s trail, I reckons we’re close ter ther end o’ our own; hey?” “Yes,” said Buffalo Bill. “It remains for us to find Little Cayuse now, and then recover Bear Paw, Silver Heels, and Navi. The horses, I have no doubt, will be found picketed in the valley, unless they were interfered with by some of the Apaches who visited the valley and drank from the pool after we did.” “They interfered with ther critters, all right,” averred Nomad. “Did ye ever hear of an Apache, runnin’ across three good horses with no one ter watch ’em, thet didn’t git his lead-ropes on _muy pronto_? Ten ter one, pards, yere mounts aire some’r’s on ther way ter Mexico with Geronimo--as lost ter ye as ole Kick-an’-Bite-’Em is ter me, which same I left at ther place o’ ther ambush.” “You overlook one thing, Nick,” said the scout. “What is et? I’m allers overlookin’ things, Buffler, but what’s ther pertic’l’r thing in this case o’ ther hosses?” “The Apaches were locoed by drinking from the pool,” expounded the scout. “After they finished drinking, if they did like Dell and myself, they never once thought of the horses. In my opinion, if we can get back to that valley pretty soon, we’ll not only find Bear Paw, Silver Heels, and Navi, but a lot of Indian cayuses as well.” “Tally another fer Buffler!” said Nomad. “Ther thing ter be done, now, is ter find ther valley an’ git ther hosses. Arter thet, properly mounted, mebbyso we kin diskiver Cayuse. I’m hopin’ thar’s Injun cayuses in ther valley, too, kase et’s up ter me ter git another hoss, an’ a ’Pache mustang’ll do till I kin hook up better.” “How’ll we go to find the valley, Buffalo Bill?” asked Dell anxiously. “Our best course, I think, is to return to that military road,” said the scout, “and follow it to Bonita, or Bowie, providing it leads there. In one or other of the two places, we ought to be able to find some one who will recognize the valley and the spring from our description, and take us----” Buffalo Bill was interrupted. At that moment a clatter of hoofs was heard along the pass. “Whistlin’ whipperwills!” yelled Nomad, jumping to his feet; “swatties, er I’m er Piegan!” “Soldiers!” echoed Dell. “Lieutenant Doyle and six troopers from Bonita!” added Buffalo Bill. “Well, well, pards, here’s luck with all the trimmings.” Racing out into the middle of the gap, Buffalo Bill mounted a boulder and waved his hat vigorously.