Blaze gave a joyful little moan and crawled feebly into camp, licking humbly at Big John’s boots. Ruler, puzzled, snuffed over him, after trying an abortive attempt at a romp. Then the water-hunger became too strong for Blaze to endure longer and he crept on to where a tank glimmered under the stars, a rock-bound pool in the lava, and there he drank and drank and drank until his dry tongue could lap up no more. * * * * * “Stand back, fellers! Fotch hyar a light. No, Sid!--and somethin’s happened to Blazie boy,” called out Big John’s voice in the dark. Niltci stirred up the camp fire, and presently Scotty came out of the boys’ green wall tent bearing a candle lantern. “Well, I’ll be plumb teetotally _hornswoggled_!” roared Big John, as the light fell on the back of the drinking Blaze. “Shore, he’s all bloody! An’ he’s got a stick through his neck-- Come hyar, Niltci! We gotto see about this! Sid’s shore got hisself into trouble--dern his pesky hide!” Niltci made his peculiar exclamatory noise and sprang over to where Blaze still lay drinking. “Arrow!” he pronounced after a moment’s inspection. “Well, I’ll be durned!” grunted Big John. “Shore of it, Injun?” he questioned incredulously. Niltci nodded. Then, stooping and holding Blaze’s muzzle with his fingers, he gave a quick yank which drew out the shaft. Blaze groaned through his set teeth. His blood came in a stream and they were busy for a short time getting a bandage on it. Then the Indian picked up the arrow and examined it more closely. “Apache!” he declared. “No!” roared Big John. “_Cayn’t_ be, Niltci! They ain’t an Apache between hyar and the White River country. I’m a gosh-durned fool, I am, an’ proud of it--I’ve lost one of them ornery boys, an’ some one has shot my dawg--but ye cayn’t hand me that Apache stuff, nohow!” “Apache!” reiterated Niltci, with more emphasis. He pointed to the blood grooves on the shaft in confirmation. All tribes make them in their own peculiar spiral lines. “What in the world’s happened to Sid, then, John?” queried Scotty, his awed, scared face appearing in the circle of light. “Search me, hombre!” grunted Big John. “You Blaze, ef you could only talk, now! But fellers, we gotto set down a-piece and figger this all out the best we kin. Sid ain’t back, but Blaze is; and with an arrer into him. What does it all mean? I _told_ you I was a fool!” he vociferated. “Ruler’s the answer, John,” said Scotty, as they all went back to the camp fire carrying Blaze between them. “We’ll put him on the back trail right off and then we’ll know something.” “Good haid, li’l man!” agreed Big John. “I’d do it, to-night, only we jist cayn’t work them hosses over that lava in the dark.”