A Sportsman 381 



upon in the dry season by a large number of pumping 

 wind-mills. 



After a rest of an hour or two at Hudson we drove 

 on for the Membres Mountains, twenty-five miles 

 further on, reaching there about dusk, and prepared 

 a rough camp for the night, building a better one 

 the following day. We had a terrible scare on the 

 way. The subject of Apache Indians was one of 

 more or less conversation. We were aware that 

 they had lately gone off the government reservation 

 some sixty miles from our neighborhood, but no reports 

 had been given of their being anywhere near our vi- 

 cinity, and the United States troops from Fort Bayard, 

 near our route, had gone out in force after them. 



We had arrived in the foot-hills of the mountains, 

 and it was mentioned that it would not be a very 

 pleasant place to be met by Indians, for the road 

 was narrow, and the neighboring hills, covered with 

 pine growth, would afford fine opportunities for 

 being waylaid. Looking well ahead, we were as- 

 tounded to see two Indians with guns emerge from 

 a ravine into the road, and walk along, followed 

 shortly by several others likewise armed. It was 

 a bad place for a scrimmage, as the road was too 

 narrow to turn about in. We all leaped out with 

 our repeating rifles, directing our driver to turn in 

 and tie his horses in the brush by the road, while 

 we separated on each side, prepared to make as vig- 

 orous a stand as possible for life, as there could be 

 no surrender to savages so notorious for their cruel- 

 ties and torturing as the Apaches. Behind trees 

 and rocks we scudded with alacrity. 



The Indians apparently had not observed us, as 



