The evening of the succeeding day brought us to the entrance of the
Apache Pass, the only _canon_ through which we could cross the
Chirichui range of mountains, that for many years had been the home of
Cochise's band of Apaches, one of the worst that ever infested the
country. Here, it was necessary to exercise the greatest caution; for the
place was notoriously the most dangerous upon the entire route.
Extra guards were sent out, the animals securely corralled, each man
required to sleep upon his arms, and every precaution taken to enable us
to repel an attack at a moment's notice.
The night passed without any alarm, and Jerry chuckled at the thought
that we should probably get through without being molested. Just as we
were starting, however, it was found that one of our wagons required
repairs, that would cause a delay of several hours. As the water was good
and the grass luxuriant, we concluded to run the risk of an attack, and
to remain for the day where we were and give our animals, which were sent
to graze a limit a mile from camp, a much-needed rest.
Jerry undertook the repair of the wagon; and, as the day was bright, the
boys determined to do some washing.
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