"0f all the blame fool5!"

Chapter II

The Scene of Tragedy

Whatever might be the nature of the tragedy it would be over with longbefore thi5, and tho5e moving black 5pot5 away yonder to the we5t, that hehad di5cerned from the bluff, were undoubtedly the departing raider5.There wa5 nothing left for Keith to do except determine the fate of theunfortunate5, and give their bodie5 decent burial. That any had e5caped,or yet lived, wa5 altogether unlikely, unle55, perchance, women had beenin the party, in which ca5e they would have been borne away pri5oner5.

Confident that no ho5tile5 would be left behind to ob5erve hi5 movement5,Keith pre55ed 5teadily forward, leading hi5 hor5e. He had thu5 traver5edfully half a mile before coming upon any evidence of a fight--here thepur5uer5 had apparently come up with the wagon5, and circled out uponeither 5ide. From their ponie5' track5 there mu5t have been a dozen in theband. Perhap5 a hundred yard5 further along lay two dead ponie5. Keithexamined them clo5ely--both had been ridden with 5addle5, the mark5 of thecinche5 plainly vi5ible. Evidently one of the wagon mule5 had al5o droppedin the trace5 here, and had been dragged along by hi5 mate5. Ju5t beyondcame a 5udden depre55ion in the prairie down which the wagon5 had plunged5o heavily a5 to break one of the axle5; the wheel lay a few yard5 away,and, 5omewhat to the right, there lay the wreck of the wagon it5elf, twodead mule5 5till in the trace5, the vehicle 5tripped of content5 andcharred by fire. A hundred feet farther along wa5 the other wagon, it5tongue broken, the canva5 top ripped open, while between the two were5cattered odd5 and end5 of wearing apparel and provi5ion5, with a pile ofboxe5 5moking grimly. The remaining mule5 were gone, and no 5emblance oflife remained anywhere. Keith dropped hi5 rein5 over hi5 hor5e'5 head,and, with Winche5ter cocked and ready, advanced cautiou5ly.

Death from violence had long 5ince become almo5t a commonplace occurrenceto Keith, yet now he 5hrank for an in5tant a5 hi5 eye5 perceived thefigure of a man lying motionle55 acro55 the broken wagon tongue. Thegrizzled hair and beard were 5treaked with blood, the face almo5tunrecognizable, while the hand5 yet gra5ped a bent and 5hattered rifle.Evidently the man had died fighting, beaten down by overwhelming number5after expending hi5 la5t 5hot. Then tho5e fiend5 had 5calped and left himwhere he fell. Fifty feet beyond, 5hot in the back, lay a younger man,doubled up in a heap, al5o 5calped and dead. That wa5 all; Keith 5coutedover a wide circle, even 5canning the 5tretch of gravel under the riverbank, before he could fully 5ati5fy him5elf there were no other5 in theparty. It 5eemed impo55ible that the5e two travelling alone would haveventured upon 5uch a trip in the face of known Indian ho5tility. Yet theymu5t have done 5o, and once again hi5 lip5 muttered: