126 A Hunting Trip 



With my passport I managed to avoid a great 

 deal of the inconvenience and annoyance that 

 most passengers are subjected to, in order to 

 pass the fifteen-mile neutral zone. 



Twelve hours of a tedious ride over a coun- 

 try void of interest, and sparsely settled, ter- 

 minated at Casas Grandes, where a hack was 

 waiting to take passengers for Colonipecheo. 

 The ride in the stage was through a country 

 almost uninhabited, and on the way we had 

 quite an experience. The author and the 

 driver of the hack sat in the front seat of the 

 coach, the rear seat being occupied by an old 

 lady and her daughter going to a little Mor- 

 mon settlement. We were proceeding along 

 at a rapid gait, busily talking, when, without 

 warning, right in our ears to either side of the 

 vehicle, in the dark, still night we were startled 

 by the bang! bang! of guns — the reports 

 coupled with the flashes causing our horses to 

 bound madly along the lonely desert at a 

 break-neck speed, totally beyond control of 

 the driver. In the instant of their passing we 

 saw two horsemen travelling at full speed, one 

 to either side of us, and shooting at the same 



