As far as outward appearance went, Quito received the news with calm indifference, but his subsequent actions told another tale. His first step was to erect a sort of hut out of the broken fragments of wigwams that lay around, into which he led the old woman, and placed within her reach a large vessel of water with a small bark cup. He then gave her all his provisions, sufficient for more than a week’s consumption, and told her he would return to her as soon as possible. The poor creature appeared grateful, and sought to detain him, but this he would not permit Having learned from her the name of the tribe that attacked the village, and that she had escaped in the general _mêlée_ by crawling into the bush, he asked which way their enemies had gone. When she had related all she had to tell on the subject, Quito left her, and divested himself of nearly every article of unnecessary costume, placed a tomahawk and scalping-knife in his girdle, slung a short bow and a quiver of arrows on his back, and, throwing his gun on his shoulder, prepared to quit the spot. Before leaving, he kneeled beside the old squaw and said in her ear:— “In a day or two Bunker will be here. Tell him I have gone to the west by the Mustang Valley, and that he must follow my trail quickly.” The old woman promised to do this, and then Quito took his leave. For several days he followed up the trail of the retreating Indians with the perseverance and unerring certainty of a bloodhound. He took so little rest and went on with such unflagging energy that he gradually drew near to them, a fact which became evident from the heat that still remained in the ashes of their camp fires when he came upon them. At last he reached one of those mighty rivers which traverse the great continent from west to east. Here he found that his enemies had crossed, and he prepared to plunge in and swim over, though the current was turbulent, deep, and broad. Tying his powder in a piece of leather on the top of his head to keep it dry, he was about to take the water when he espied an old Indian canoe, and proceeded to examine before launching it. While thus engaged he was arrested by one of the most astonishing sights that had ever met his gaze. Rapidly and perceptibly the great river that rolled before him began to diminish in volume. Accustomed as he was to all the varying aspects of lake and stream in their conditions of flood and drought, Quito had never seen anything at all resembling that which now occurred before his eyes. His wonted reason and sagacity were at fault; it was utterly unaccountable!