He proved wanting in gratitude as in natural affection. The same night on which he was set free, he took the route back to the prairies, mounted upon one of the best horses of our troop, which he had stolen from its unfortunate owner!
Such are the “Cosas de Mexico”—a few of the traits of frontier-life on the Rio Bravo del Norte.
But what of the war-trail? That is not yet explained.
Know, then, that from the country of the Indians to that of the Mexicans extend many great paths, running for hundreds of miles from point to point. They follow the courses of streams, or cross vast desert plains, where water is found only at long intervals of distance. They are marked by the tracks of mules, horses, and captives. Here and there, they are whitened by bones—the bones of men, of women, of animals, that have perished by the way. Strange paths are these! What are they, and who have made them? Who travel by these roads that lead through the wild and homeless desert?
Indians: they are the paths of the Comanche and Caygua—the roads made by their warriors during the “Mexican moon.”
It was upon one of these that the trapper was gazing when he gave out the emphatic utterance—
“War-trail, by the Eturnal!”