"She may have been stolen, as you suggest," I replied, "but not by the Pueblos. We were their guests, and our property was sacred."
The Indians, seeing our trouble, gathered about us, and among them I saw the governor. Making my way to him, I explained what had happened. He turned to his people and addressed them in his own tongue. A young girl approached and said something, at the same time pointing to the southwest.
Looking in the direction indicated, over a long stretch of broken country, bordered on the west by an irregular range of sandstone mesas, I thought I saw a moving object near the foot of a rugged bluff, several miles distant; but before I could adjust my field-glass the object had turned the bluff and disappeared. One thing, however, I did see—it was Vic, sitting on a knoll less than a mile from the pueblo.
"I wonder we have not thought of Vic's absence all this time," I said; "there she is, on the trail of the thief, wondering why we do not pursue."
"The good doggie," said Henry. "She did her best to tell us Chiquita was stolen, and she means to do her best to retake her."
Turning to the governor, I asked, "Are there any Navajos about here?"
"There is a large band in the cienaga, three leagues from here. The lost pony will be found there."
I directed Henry to run after the train and report what had happened. "Wave your handkerchief," said I, "and some one will come to meet you. If it should be a mounted man, take his animal, overtake Captain Bayard, tell him all you know, and say that Frank and I have gone in pursuit, and that I request him to send a detachment of cavalry to look us up."
Henry started off with a celerity begotten of his anxiety at the loss of his pony and the fear that his brother might fall into danger unless a body of troopers followed him closely.
Frank and I then galloped towards Vic. As soon as the dog saw us approaching she sprang into the air, shook herself in an ecstasy of delight, then put her nose to the earth, and went steadily on in advance, threading her way through clumps of sage-brush and greasewood and along the ravines.