I came upon the spot unexpectedly, finding it entirely
deserted, with no signs of having been recently occupied as a camp.
I was interested to note that the tracks of the pursuing horsemen,
for such I was now convinced they must be, continued after Powell
with only a brief stop at the hole for water; and always at the same
rate of speed as his.
I was positive now that the trailers were Apaches and that they
wished to capture Powell alive for the fiendish pleasure of the
torture, so I urged my horse onward at a most dangerous pace, hoping
against hope that I would catch up with the red rascals before they
attacked him.
Further speculation was suddenly cut short by the faint report of
two shots far ahead of me. I knew that Powell would need me now if
ever, and I instantly urged my horse to his topmost speed up the
narrow and difficult mountain trail.
I had forged ahead for perhaps a mile or more without hearing
further sounds, when the trail suddenly debouched onto a small, open
plateau near the summit of the pass. I had passed through a narrow,
overhanging gorge just before entering suddenly upon this table
land, and the sight which met my eyes filled me with consternation
and dismay.
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