Show the old settler PART III my dear san Jua ners 1 we stopped in the bottom of a rock ribbed ravine gathered a i little shad scale bush and made a fire our horses poor creatures the grain we would have fed them w was as in the packs not a snoot ful of grass for them to eat so we tied them to a lone cedar over our smoking and uncertain certain yn fire we roasted a generous feed of that new beef and when we had assuaged our ravenous appetites appetite s we climbed the nearby rocks to lock and listen and with nothing to alarm us from the darkness we sat dozing by the fire being desperate for sleep when the fire had burned out we brushed away the live embers and lay down on the warm sand where it had been spreading our sweat soaked saddle blankets over us for a cover we fell asleep at once but it was only a little while till the warm sand lost its warmth and the cold and dampness drove us up for more shad scale to build another poverty stricken fire fir and lie down again to sleep where it had been but the sand got cold again and we gathered more mo reshad shad scale to warm it this process had become monotonous when just as we lay down again on the sand joe raised his head and listened 1 I can hear something he annun announced ced and I 1 turned my ear in that direction only to hear the winter winds sighing over the bald rocks we had no more than begun to doze again when joe declared 1 I can hear it again it is nearer r now than before and then I 1 heard it the sound rose with the wind and died away in the hush we listened holding our breaths it came again it was nearer wladja think I 1 asked in bewilderment Dam damaino damfino fino joe whispered running his fingers into his hair lilt it sounds like hoofs but they seem to be ba movin moving unusually slow and stopping frequently as if hunting for tracks I 1 we listened again they had come still nearer but their fitful and guarded foot falls were as mysterious as the behavior of the two navajos cavajos and the squaw that vanished like a spirit they may miss us I 1 suggested but if they come down this wash on owr our tracks and well have to meet the situation the b best est way we can when it came to handling a gun I 1 was never an artist joe was so 0 he carried the rifle as we got behind a bank and awaited the appearance of our strange visitors hold your fire till silhouetted houett ed against the sky I 1 suggested and then know where to aim for a dead shot when I 1 begin shooting you I 1 duck he ordered for shoot back and you wont do any good by being up in the way of bullets now they were still nearer still continued on page ten A Y the old settler continued irom from page 1 stopping frequently still treading softly we knew it was grim business but the only thing was vas to carry through and survive and it was for me to bs be ready to man our artillery if and when they killed jos joe you know we came over a little sand hill joe whispered well on that now why we cant hear em when they came off the sand they were very near still hesitating soft steps but no voices then one of our horses tied to the cedar whinnied joe swore under his breath and then from the oncoming intruders came an answering whinny it was the familiar voice of old buck one of our pack horses they were hobbling their way towards the lake ALBERT R LYMAN |