Now the date of our departure had arrived, and very sad, indeed, was I to leave these people who had done their very best to make me feel at home with them and who seemed to be really fond of me.  I consoled Dona Josefita somewhat with the promise that I would return some day and find her the treasure of La Gran Quivira.  Don Juan Mestal, the freighter, seemed as reluctant to leave as I was; something was always turning up to delay our start.  But at last we were off.

After three days of travel, we came to a small town, where I met a Mexican whom I knew on the Rio Grande, where he had formerly lived.  He invited me cordially to the wedding of his sister, which was to be on the next day at old Fort Wingate, an abandoned fort, and then a Mexican settlement.  This man said that he had come on purpose to meet me, as he had heard of my intentions to leave the country.  Although I did not like the man, who was said to be jealous of Americans, I accepted his urgent invitation more from curiosity to learn what he meant to do than for other reasons.

The next morning I started early from camp and rode over to the little town, distant fifteen miles.  When I arrived in front of my prospective host’s house I caught a glimpse of two men, who were sneaking off toward an old corral.  Then I knew what was in the wind, for those two men were known to me as desperate cutthroat thieves and highwaymen; their specialty was to waylay and murder American travelers.  My kind friend professed to be overmuch delighted at my arrival.  He took charge of my horse and invited me into his house, where I met the bridal couple and their friends, who were carousing and gambling.  I joined and made merry with them.  At ten o’clock the whole party made ready to proceed to the chapel, where the marriage ceremony was to be performed.  I simulated the part of a very inebriated person, a condition which they looked forward to with hope and satisfaction, and told them that I would stay at the house to await their return.  When everybody had left I thought I might as well get under way, feeling lonesome.  I went out and around to the rear of the house, where the corral was, to get my horse, but found the gate fastened with chains and securely locked.  The corral walls were built of adobe, and the two walls of it were a continuation of the side walls of the house, and its end wall formed an enclosure or backyard.  My horse was there, and I found my saddle in one of the rooms of the building, hidden under a blanket.  I entered the corral through the back door of the house, caught and saddled my horse, and then led him out to the street.  This was a very laughable manner of leave-taking.  The house was cut up into a labyrinth of small rooms, just large enough for a horse to turn around in, and the doors were low and narrow.  As I could not find the outer door, I led my horse successively into every room in the house.