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Show 66 WESTERN WILDS. traders, they were well equipped, and had with them a large quantity of gold and silver ; but, after hearing their account, our party released them. It was evident then, that whatever our men might be, and how-ever unworthy the motives of some, they were not marauders. " From these travelers we received news that greatly disheartened us. A European Spaniard, who had been in the Texan army of invasion in 1842, and was then suspected of being a spy, had reported himself for reenlistment, and been assigned to Colonel Warfield's command. This action caused unusual confidence to be reposed in him, and after gleaning all the information possible, he proceeded by the shortest route to Santa Fe, and laid the whole case before the Mexican Gov-ernor, Armijo. But that worthy had received still more circumstantial accounts of us from some resident American traders, who had agents out upon the plains, and who were base enough to betray the cause of liberty for such favors in the remission of tariff duties, and other com-mercial advantages, as a Mexican Governor at that time could extend. " Soon after came a messenger from Colonel Warfield with orders to join him at Rabbit Ears, a noted landmark midway between the Cimarron and Arkansas. We had enough of the Las Animas, and our lieutenant mapped out a new route, thus : south two and a half days to the Cimarron, thence down it five days to the Santa Fe trail, and thence north- west to Rabbit Ears. We entered at once upon the sandy plain, which continued all the way to the Cimarron. Sometimes cacti covered the sand so close that every step was dangerous, or thick clusters of greasewood excluded all useful growth; and again naked sterility denied footing to vegetable life. As we neared the Cimarron, the region grew still more forbidding. Behind us was the desolate table- land, before us the gloomy mountains; the few water holes were poisonous with alkali or other mineral salts, and the men, half crazed with thirst, declared with profane emphasis that such a country was little worth fighting for. We descended through a side gorge into the cafion of the Cimarron, winding along a buffalo trail, and upon a rocky bench barely wide enough for our animals. The walls of this fissure were at least eight hundred feet high, and facing each other at a distance not exceeding twenty- five yards. A large stone, loosened at the beginning of our descent, shot downward with the velocity of a cannon- ball, while the echoes sounded from side to side in gloomy re-vefberations. Once down to the bottom of the canon, our route was easy enough along the course of the stream; at times in an oval vale, adorned by heavy grovqs and vocal with the songs of birds, again in a narrow cafion, and again out upon bare plats of burning sand. |