The rising sun found us under way again, and by noon we came to good
camping ground with an abundance of grass and water.
CHAPTER III. THE MYSTERY OF THE SMOKING RUIN. STALKING A WARRIOR. THE
AMBUSH
Now we were past the most dangerous part of our journey, leaving the
Comanche country and entering the domain of the Ute Indians and other
tribes, who were not as brave as the Arapahoes and Comanches. Here
our caravan-formation was broken up and each outfit traveled
separately at its own risk.
The next day we witnessed a most horrible and distressing sight.
Willingly would I surrender several years of my allotted lifetime on
earth if I could thereby efface forever the awful impression of this
pitiful tragedy from my memory. Alas I that I was fated to behold the
shocking sight! For days thereafter we plodded on, a sad-looking,
sober, downhearted lot of men, grieved to distraction, and there I
left the innocence of boyhood--wiser surely, but not better! We
neared the still smoking ruins of what had once been a happy home. As
I approached to gratify my curiosity, I met several of my companions,
who were returning and who implored me not to go nearer. An old
Mexican, ignorant, rough, and callous as he was, begged me, with
tears streaming down his face, to retrace my steps.
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