In the heavens from the east drifted a white, ragged
cloud. The solitary hill seemed to rise high and higher and all the
mountains bowed before it. The spectral cloud resolved itself into a
terrible vision which enveloped the central hill. Great Heavens!
Again I saw the phantom dog and fancied that I heard shrill screams
of "Perro, perro, gringo perro!" A crackling noise, a coming shadow,
and forward I fell on my face, ever on the alert, ever ready. An
unearthly yell and a great body flew over, fierce claws grazing me.
Two balls of fire shone in the bush, but my rifle cracked and a great
lion fell in its tracks. I expected my companions to meet me soon,
coming my way. Instead, I found them, after my all-night's walk,
snugly camped where I had left them. Don Juan explained that with
God's favor they had found the water soon after I had left them. He
said that they had called loud and long after me, but I did not seem
to hear.
This day we descended the mesa and entered the valley of the Verde
River, one of Arizona's permanent water courses. This valley is
cultivated for at least forty miles from its source to where it
enters precipitous mountains. We forded the crystal waters of the
river at Camp Verde, an army post, and crossed another range of
mountains and several valleys into a comparatively open country, and
on the night of a day late in November we camped on Lynx Creek, and
were then within a half day's travel of our destination.
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