That seemed a useless question to be asked in such a place, but there were secrets of the chaparral which were unknown to the red men of the plains. This was not their hunting-ground and never had been so. Moreover, there had been local changes and wide bush-growths during the years which had elapsed since the tribes of the Guadalupe and Nueces River country had been exterminated. Less than half an hour of brisk riding brought Tetzcatl and his companion to the hiding-place of one of those secrets of the chaparral. "Whoop!" burst from Red Wolf. "Old lodge. Heap water. Great medicine. Tetzcatl white head. Know heap!" Except for its being there, unknown to almost everybody, there was nothing to be seen that could be called remarkable. There were some tumbling walls of _adobe_, or sunburned brick, of no great extent or number, near the margin of a bright-looking pond. There might be two acres of water, but no rill could be seen running into it. One that ran out, feebly, on the farther side, shortly disappeared in the sandy soil. Red Wolf knew, for he at once rode to investigate. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, when he reached the bit of marsh where the tiny rivulet ended. "Dead water." A deer sprang out of a covert at the border of the marsh, but Red Wolf's bow had been all the while in his hand, ready for instant use. The bowstring twanged, the arrow sped, and in a moment more a thrust of a lance followed. "Heap meat," said the young hunter, as he sprang to the ground and tethered his mustang. He did not have to cut up his game unaided. Tetzcatl came to join him with his heavy _machete_ already out, and he proved himself an expert butcher. "Good!" said Red Wolf. "Where go now? Heap fire tell Comanche." "Come," said Tetzcatl, slinging the venison across his mule, but he said no more about what he intended doing. They rode back to the pond and around it to the southerly side. Here, scattered over several acres of open, grassy ground, were the ruins, none of them more than one-story buildings. At one place, near the middle of them, there remained almost a complete house, roofed over. Into this, leaving his mule at the door, Tetzcatl led the way. On the floor in a corner smouldered the embers of a fire, suggesting that he had been there before, on that very day. Fragments of dry wood lay near, and were at once thrown on to make a blaze, in spite of the remonstrances of Red Wolf. "Smoke tell Comanche," he said, as the blue vapor began to curl out at an opening in the shattered roof. "No!" replied Tetzcatl. "Small smoke. Much wind. Comanches are a great way off." Red Wolf had to give it up, and he was very ready to enjoy broiled venison. The best part of his unexpected good luck, however, was the water. The deer had been a sudden arrival truly, but deer were plentiful in Texas in those days. They were to be met with at any time, but a pond in a desert was quite another affair.