Rube had but little change to make. His hue was already of sufficient deepness for the disguise, and he was not going to trouble himself by throwing off the old shirt or leggings. That could hardly have been done without cutting both open, and Rube was not likely to make such a sacrifice of his favourite buckskins. He proceeded to draw the other garments over them, and in a short time was habited in a pair of slashing calzoneros, with bright buttons from the hip to the ankle. These, with a smart, tight-fitting jacket that had fallen to his share, and a jaunty sombrero cocked upon his head, gave him the air of a most comical dandy. The men fairly yelled at seeing him thus metamorphosed, and old Rube himself grinned heartily at the odd feelings which the dress occasioned him. Before the sun had set, everything was in readiness, and the advance started off. The main body, under Saint Vrain, was to follow an hour after. A few men, Mexicans, remained by the spring, in charge of the Navajo prisoners. CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE. THE RESCUE. We struck directly across the plain for the eastern entrance of the valley. We reached the canon about two hours before day. Everything turned out as we had anticipated. There was an outpost of five Indians at the end of the pass, but we had stolen upon them unawares, and they were captured without the necessity of our firing a shot. The main body came up soon after, and preceded by our party as before, passed through the canon. Arriving at the border of the woods nearest the town, we halted, and concealed ourselves among the trees. The town was glistening in the clear moonlight, and deep silence was over the valley. There were none stirring at so early an hour, but we could descry two or three dark objects down by the river. We knew them to be the sentinels that stood over our captive comrades. The sight was gratifying, for it told us they still lived. They little dreamed, poor fellows! how near was the hour of their deliverance. For the same reasons that had influenced us on a former occasion, the attack was not to be made until daybreak; and we waited as before, but with a very different prospect. There were now six hundred warriors in the town-- about our own number; and we knew that a desperate engagement was before us. We had no fear as to the result; but we feared that the vengeful savages might take it into their heads to despatch their captives while we fought. They knew that to recover these was our main object, and, if themselves defeated, that would give them the satisfaction of a terrible vengeance. All this we knew was far from improbable; but to guard against the possibility of such an event, every precaution was to be taken.