I fell into a train of reflection as I rode down the ravine. I was now upon a known trail. My spirits rose; my hopes, so long clouded over, began to assume a brightness and buoyancy, greater from the very influence of reaction. I should still be able to rescue my betrothed. My whole energies, my fortune, my life, would be devoted to this one object. I would raise a band stronger than ever Seguin had commanded. I should get followers among the returning employes of the caravan; teamsters whose term of service had expired. I would search the posts and mountain rendezvous for trappers and hunters. I would apply to the Mexican Government for aid, in money--in troops. I would appeal to the citizens of El Paso, of Chihuahua, of Durango. "Ge-hosaphat! Hyur's a fellur ridin' 'ithout eyther saddle or bridle!" Five or six men with rifles sprang out from the rocks, surrounding me. "May an Injun eat me ef 'tain't the young fellur as tuk me for a grizzly! Billee! look hyur! hyur he is! the very fellur! He! he! he! He! he! he!" "Rube! Garey!" "What! By Jove, it's my friend Haller! Hurrah! Old fellow, don't you know me?" "Saint Vrain!" "That it is. Don't I look like him? It would have been a harder task to identify you but for what the old trapper has been telling us about you. But come! how have you got out of the hands of the Philistines?" "First tell me who you all are. What are you doing here?" "Oh, we're a picket! The army is below." "The army?" "Why, we call it so. There's six hundred of us; and that's about as big an army as usually travels in these parts." "But who? What are they?" "They are of all sorts and colours. There's the Chihuahuanos and Passenos, and niggurs, and hunters, and trappers, and teamsters. Your humble servant commands these last-named gentry. And then there's the band of your friend Seguin--" "Seguin! Is he--" "What? He's at the head of all. But come! they're camped down by the spring. Let us go down. You don't look overfed; and, old fellow, there's a drop of the best Paso in my saddle-bags. Come!" "Stop a moment! I am pursued." "Pursued!" echoed the hunters, simultaneously raising their rifles, and looking up the ravine. "How many?" "About twenty." "Are they close upon you?" "No." "How long before we may expect them?" "They are three miles back, with tired horses, as you may suppose." "Three-quarters--halt an hour at any rate. Come! we'll have time to go down and make arrangements for their reception. Rube! you with the rest can remain here. We shall join you before they get forward. Come, Haller!--come!" Following my faithful and warm-hearted friend, I rode on to the spring. Around it I found "the army"; and it had somewhat of that appearance, for two or three hundred of the men were in uniform. These were the volunteer guards of Chihuahua and El Paso.