“Well, you must adopt such precautions and make such rules as you think proper,” was my reply.  “We’ll all obey them.”

“I’ll set ther guard ter-night, and yer may ez well turn in now, ’cause we must make a early start.”

We had hardly been on the road an hour the next day, before we observed one of the remarkable signal-smokes (used by the Apaches to give warning of the approach of strangers into their country), suddenly shoot up into the air from a spur of the mountains several miles distant.

Although the morning was windy, the smoke arose in a straight column to a great height, then spread out like a huge umbrella at the top, and, in the twinkling of an eye, was gone.

“That means ‘look out,’ plain enuff, don’t it?” asked Jerry.  “That’s what I call telegraphin’.  Now, putty soon you’ll see some more answerin’ of ’em.”

“Do you know what that means?” inquired Ned.

“That means, ‘Strangers is comin’.’  If they’d repeated it three or four times, it would have said, ‘The party’s a big one, and wants watchin’.’  But they’re so fur off, I reckon they’ll send two or three spies in ter see how many thar is of us, afore we shall hear from ’em.  Hilloa! there they go,” continued he, pointing to three more of the signals that were suddenly sent up in different directions.  “We’re in amongst ’em, sure, boys; so let’s keep our eyes open.”

Notwithstanding we maintained the utmost vigilance during the entire day’s journey, we saw nothing of Indians, or any signs indicating their presence; but, upon camping at night, we so disposed our wagons, that we should be able to make a vigorous resistance in case of attack.  The guard was posted, to be relieved every two hours.  Our camp was on an open plain, with no shrubbery save an occasional brown-bush or yucca near us; and we retired, feeling as safe as we had any time since crossing the Rio Grande.

The night passed quietly; and, just as the grey dawn began to make objects visible about camp, I awoke.

I saw the guard sitting over the smoldering fire, the mules hitched to the wagon-wheels as usual, and the remainder of the party wrapped in their blankets, apparantly sleeping soundly; so I determined to take another nap before rising.

While thus lying, half awake and half asleep, I dreamily turned my eyes towards a small bush that stood a few yards from the place where I was lying, and, to my horror, discovered a pair of bright eyes peering at me from between the branches.

My first thought, that it was some animal, was speedily dissipated by discovering the fingers of a human hand holding aside the branches so as to give its owner an uninterrupted view of our camp; and it required but little stretch of the imagination to plainly see the features of a swarthy, ugly face behind them.

In an instant I remembered the conversation with Jerry the day previous, and decided that it must be the face of an Apache spy, and that I had better remain quiet; knowing, that, if my surmise was correct, we need not fear an attack from him or his companions, at that time.