As we came to the ground for the fourth time, my antagonist fell under me. A cry of agony passed from his lips; his head "coggled" over among the weeds; and he lay in my arms without struggling. I felt his grasp gradually relaxing. I looked in his face. His eyes were glassy and upturned. Blood was gurgling through his teeth. I saw that he was dead. To my astonishment I saw this, for I knew I had not struck him as yet. I was drawing my arm from under him to do so, when I noticed that he ceased to resist. But the knife now caught my eye. It was red, blade and haft, and so was the hand that clasped it. As we fell I had accidentally held it point upward. My antagonist had fallen upon the blade! I now thought of my betrothed, and, untwining myself from the lithe and nerveless limbs of the savage, I rose to my feet. The ranche was in flames! The roof had fallen in upon the brazero, and the dry shingles had caught the blaze. Men were crawling out from the burning ruin, but not to run away. No! Under its lurking flames, amidst the hot smoke, they still battled fierce, and foaming, and frenzied. I did not stay to recognise whom they were, these tireless combatants. I ran forward, looking on all sides for the objects of my solicitude. The wave of female dresses caught my eye, far up the cliff, on the road leading to the Navajo captives. It was they! The three were climbing the steep path, each urged onward by a savage. My first impulse was to rush after; but at that moment fifty horsemen made their appearance upon the hill, and came galloping downward. I saw the madness of attempting to follow them, and turned to retreat towards the other side, where we had left our captives and horses. As I ran across the bottom, shots rang in my ear, proceeding from our side of the barranca. Looking up, I descried the mounted hunters coming down at a gallop, pursued by a cloud of savage horsemen. It was the band of Dacoma! Uncertain what to do, I stood for a moment where I was, and watched the pursuit. The hunters, on reaching the ranches, did not halt, but galloped on down the valley, firing as they went. A body of Indians swept on after them, while another body pulled up, clustered around the blazing ruin, and commenced searching among the walls. I was yet screened in the thicket of cacti; but I saw that my hiding-place would soon be pierced by the eyes of the subtle savages; and dropping upon my hands and knees, I crept into the cliff. On reaching it, I found myself close to the mouth of a cave, a small shaft of the mine, and into this I at once betook myself. CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN. A QUEER ENCOUNTER IN A CAVE. The place into which I had crawled was of irregular outlines. Rocks jutted along the sides, and between these, small lateral shafts had been dug, where the miners had followed the ramifications of the "quixa." The cave was not a deep one; the vein had not proved profitable, and had been abandoned for some other.