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.  Alas, when would impulsive youth ever listen to wise counsel and take heed!  I entered the ruins and saw a dark telltale pool oozing forth from under the door of a cellar.  Oh, had I but then overcome my morbid curiosity and fled!  But no!  I must needs open the door and look in.  I saw—­I saw a beautiful whiskey barrel, its belly bursted and its head stove in!

The trip across the plains was a very healthful and pleasant experience to me.  During the greatest heat and while the moon favored us, we often traveled at night and rested in daytime.  By foregoing my rest, I found opportunity to hunt antelope and smaller game.  I was very fond of this sport and indulged in it frequently.  One day I sighted a band of antelope—­these most beautiful and graceful animals.  I tried to head them off, in order to get within rifle-shot distance, and drifted farther and farther away from camp until I must have strayed at least five miles.  Like a rebounding rubber ball, their four feet striking the ground simultaneously, they fled until at last they faded from sight on the horizon, engulfed in a shimmering wave of heat, the reflection from a sun-scorched ground.  Reluctantly I gave up the chase, as I could by no means approach the game, although they could not have winded me.

In order to determine the direction of our camp, I ascended a little hill, when I suddenly espied an Indian.  He was in a sitting posture, less than a quarter of a mile away.  Apparently he was stark naked and his face was turned away from me, for I saw his broad back where not covered by his long hair glisten in the hot rays of the sun.  His gun was lying within reach of his right hand, but I could not see what he was doing.  On the impulse of the moment I dropped behind a flowering cactus for concealment.  Then I took counsel with myself and decided that it would be too risky to return to camp as I had intended to do.  In that direction for a long distance the ground was gently rising and most likely the Indian would have seen me.  I thought it probable that he had staked his horse out in some nearby gulch, and if seen I would have been at his mercy, as perhaps he was also in touch with other Indians of his tribe.