By taking a zigzag course, avoiding, in the mountains, all the usually traveled trails, he advanced on his route forty miles without seeing any very fresh Indian signs. As often as the moon was unclouded, the two men embraced the assistance of its pale light to make progress through the dangers that beset them; and, on the days which succeeded this night-work, they would conceal themselves and animals in some out of the way place, where they were not to be easily discovered. Kit Carson had not sufficient confidence in the quickness of perception of his companion to trust him as a sentinel, therefore, he had to take upon himself all of that important duty. While on the lookout, he usually posted himself in the top limbs of a tree and always took care to select one that commanded a good prospect of the surrounding country. After several days passed without having proper rest, Kit, in the monotony of his position as sentinel, would feel sleep stealing over him, until it was difficult to keep longer awake. He would close his eyes and commence to nod, but on these occasions he was sure to be quickly aroused on almost losing his balance, by which, however, he endangered his neck. One day, while thus employed, he was perched in the highest branches of a lofty old cotton-wood on the banks of the River Timchera and not far off from the "Spanish Peaks." Nearly ten hours had passed without anything special having attracted his attention, when, all at once, a band of straggling Apaches came into view not over one half mile distant. A single look was sufficient to convince him that, as yet, neither himself nor his companion had been discovered. No time was to be lost, so Kit, as quickly as possible, descended and ran to where his friend was, and informed him of their danger. The animals were soon saddled, and the two men mounting them, struck out in a direction just the opposite to that in which the Indians were traveling. Fortune favored them, as, soon after they had emerged from the timber into the open prairies, night set in, thus shutting them out from the view of the savages. Profiting by the darkness and the level country which lay before them, they reached, by the rising of the next morning's sun, the Mexican town of Red River, which was sixty-five miles distant from the place they had last started from. All dangers having been now surmounted, they made a sufficient stay at Red River to rest themselves and animals. On resuming their journey, they jogged along over the now rough trail and, after a ride of thirty miles, came to Taos, where they were once more safe from the perils that had so recently surrounded them, and where they were well provided for by kind friends.