“We’ll take a shovel along,” said Sut, as he threw one over his shoulder, and sprang upon his horse.  “We’ll be likely to find need for it afore we reach the fort.”

This prediction was verified.  As they rode along they constantly came upon bodies of men and women, whose horses had given out, or who had been shot while fleeing for life.  In every case the poor fugitives had been scalped and mutilated.  They were gathered up and tenderly buried, with no headstone to mark their remains, there to sleep until the last trump shall sound.

Fort Severn was reached in the afternoon of the second day.  There were found, just six men and two women, the fleetness of whose steeds had enabled them to win in the race for life.  All the others had fallen, among them Caleb Barnwell, the leader of the Quixotic scheme, and the founder of the town which died with him.  The valley of the Rio Pecos was not prepared for any settlement unless one organized upon a scale calculated to overawe all combinations of the Apaches, Commanches, and Kiowas.

From Fort Severn, Mickey O’Rooney and Fred Munson, under the escort, or rather guidance, of Sut Simpson, made their way overland to Fort Aubray, where Mr. Munson, the father of Fred, was found.  The latter thanked heaven for the sickness which had detained him and could not fully express his gratitude for the wonderful preservation of Mickey and his son.  Sut Simpson, the scout, was well paid for his services, and, bidding them good-bye, he went to his field of duty in the southwest, while Mr. Munson, Mickey and Fred were glad enough to return east.