There had been a camp there not long before, and the first discovery made by the foremost Apache who had ridden up to that spring was that it had not been a camp of his own people.
The prints of the hoofs of horses showed that they had been shod, and there are neither horseshoes nor blacksmiths among the red men of the Southwest.
The tracks left by the feet of men were not such as can be made by moccasins. There are no heels on moccasins, and no nails in the soles of them.
Even if there had been Indian feet in the boots, the toes would not have been turned out in walking. Only white men do that.
So much was plain at a mere glance, but there were a good many other things to be studied and interpreted before Many Bears and his followers could feel satisfied.
It was a good deal like reading a newspaper. Nobody tears one up until it has been read through, and the Apaches did not trample the ground around the spring until they had searched out all that the other trampling could tell them.
Then the dark-faced ferocious-looking warriors who had made the search all gathered around their chief, and, one after another, reported what they had found.
There had been a strong party of white men at that spot three days before. Three wagons drawn by mule-teams. Many spare mules. Twenty-five men who rode horses, besides the men who drove the wagons.
"Were they miners?"
Every warrior and chief was ready to say "No," at once.