the mule which had first given warning of the approaching catastrophe galloped riderless away.
The survivors hastily retreated to a neighboring height, determined to sell their lives as dearly as they could; but though they waited an hour, revolvers in hand, for the arrival of the Indians, they were left unmolested. When the evening shadows lessened the risk, they returned to the spot where Laws had fallen, and, placing his corpse before them on their saddles, carried it with them to the summit of the highest hill within reach. There, by the light of the moon, a grave was dug, and poor Laws was buried. No stone or other memorial marked his resting-place, as it would but have served to provoked the desecration of his remains.
The next day the march was resumed, and, during an interesting trip among the lovely passes of the Mexican range, known as Los Organos, an adventure was met with, scarcely less exciting, though less tragical in its ending, than the encounter with the Apaches. The guide, who was a little in advance of the party he was escorting, suddenly pointed to a spot far up on the mountain, and observed laconically, "Yonder is the hole of a cinnamon bear." It was at once resolved that the owner of the lofty cave should be compelled to show himself, and pay for that privilege with his life.
The guide leading the way, all but Cozens, who was in no humor for the sport, proceede to climb up to the mouth of the hole, it being agreed that each should fire as he saw the bear emerge from his retreat. When all were in position, the guide commenced operations by dropping a large handful of pebbles in front of the mouth of the cave. The effect was almost immediate. But a minute or two elapsed before the hunted animal put his head out and calmly surveyed his tormentors. Rogers, one of the men farthest from the actual scene of action, now fired; the bullet struck the bear on the nose, and, furious with pain, he rushed at one of the party named Parker, who, flinging down his weapon, fled to a fir-tree hard by. As the doctor scrambled up the tree, the bear gazing ruefully after him, two well-directed shots brought the latter down dead, and, after a hearty laugh at Parker's expense, the carcass was cut into strips, and packed among the stores for the journey.
A little later, a détour was made to visit the ruins of Le Gran Quivera, situated on a plain some ten miles distant from the mountains, and supposed to be identical with one of the seven cities of Cibola, visited by Father Kino. The ruins were found to be still in excellent preservation; the re-
