The next minute the clearing within the encampment was filled by a score of men, who, leaping from their horses, and leaving them outside of the circle of wagons, came rushing in upon the little party from every direction.
“Helloa! here, where are you?” shouted the famous scout, “this ain’t a game of hide and seek. Come out and show yourselves.”
This was uttered in a cheery, hearty way, but mingled with the voice could have been detected a tone of awe and dread, like one who in reality was afraid to hear the same answer which he had demanded.
“Here we are,” replied Captain Shields, as he and Rodman walked forward to meet their deliverers.
“But the rest of you—where are they? Speak quick, old fellow,” added Jo, taking the hand of the two, both of whom were his acquaintances; “we are in a hurry, and want to hear all that is to be heard.”
“There they are,” returned Egbert, pointing to the wagons; “some are beneath them, and some are within them, but every one is dead!”
“What!” exclaimed Lightning Jo; “you had women and children with you—they are not all gone? I heard that Lizzie Manning, the sweetest little girl in Santa Fe, or anywhere else, was with you. Where is she?”
“Oh, she is all right,” returned Captain Shields, who had misunderstood the full import of the question; “they are unharmed.”
But by this time Gibbons, who knew just where to look for them, called out that they were safe, and he and many of the soldiers gathered about the wagon to congratulate and give them what assistance was in their power.
Their kindnesses were needed, for during the latter portion of this day all had suffered the most agonizing thirst, the scant supply which had been furnished them so unexpectedly lasting them but a short time, and then seeming to intensify that intolerable craving that drives the strongest man mad, until all were overcome by a sort of stupor, in which they were sensible only of dull, yearning pain, that could not be quieted.