In vain Seguin urged the necessity of our hastening forward to the town. In vain he represented the danger we were in of being overtaken by Dacoma's party, who by this time were upon our trail. In vain the Coco chief, the doctor, and myself, assured our uneducated companions that what they saw was but the glancing surface of a worthless rock. The men were obstinate. The sight, operating upon long-cherished hopes, had intoxicated them. They had lost all reason. They were mad. "On, then!" cried Seguin, making a desperate effort to restrain his passion. "On, madmen, and satisfy yourselves--our lives may answer for your folly!" and, so saying, he turned his horse, and headed him for the shining beacon. The men rode after, uttering loud and joyful acclamations. At the end of a long day's ride we reached the base of the mountain. The hunters leaped from their horses, and clambered up to the glittering rocks. They reached them. They broke them with their tomahawks and pistol-butts, and cleft them with their knives. They tore off the plates of mica and glassy selenite. They flung them at their feet, abashed and mortified; and, one after another, came back to the plain with looks of disappointment and chagrin. Not one of them said a word, as they climbed into their saddles, and rode sullenly after the chief. We had lost a day by this bootless journey; but our consolation lay in the belief that our Indian pursuers, following upon our trail, would make the same detour. Our course now lay to the south-west; but finding a spring not far from the foot of the mountain, we remained by it for the night. After another day's march in a south-easterly course, Rube recognised the profiles of the mountains. We were nearing the great town of the Navajoes. That night we encamped on a running water, a branch of the Prieto that headed to the eastward. A vast chasm between two cliffs marked the course of the stream above us. The guide pointed into the gap, as we rode forward to our halting-place. "What is it, Rube?" inquired Seguin. "'Ee see that gully ahead o' us?" "Yes; what of it?" "The town's thur." CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. NAVAJOA. It was near evening of the next day when we arrived at the foot of the sierra, at the debouchure of the canon. We could not follow the stream any farther, as there was no path by the channel. It would be necessary to pass over the ridge that formed the southern jaw of the chasm. There was a plain trail among scrubby pines; and, following our guide, we commenced riding up the mountain. After ascending for an hour or so, by a fearful road along the very brink of the precipice, we climbed the crest of the ridge, and looked eastward. We had reached the goal of our journey. The town of the Navajoes was before us. "Voila!" "Mira el pueblo!" "Thar's the town!" "Hurrah!" were the exclamations that broke from the hunters.