I handed the paper to Jerry; who, after reading it, gave it back to its owner with the remark, it was muncho bueno, or very good.

The chief received it with a smile; and, as he returned it to the little bag, remarked,—­

“Very good, me bueno amigo” (good friend).

“P’raps yer be,” remarked Jerry, in English, “but yer ain’t ther sort I hanker arter.  I reckon we may as well shake hands, old feller, ’cause we must be a-goin’, an’ you an’ me hain’t got no use for one another, no how.”

But our Comanche friends were not to be shaken off, so easily; for, even after bidding them good by, Cuchillo insisted upon accompanying us; and, rather than betray any fear, or show that we distrusted him, Jerry was obliged to make a virtue of necessity, and assent to the proposition with as good a grace as possible.

It was evident that curiosity at least was one of the motives that actuated the Indians; for, upon overtaking our herd, they looked about them, evidently expecting to see a larger party with us, and expressing surprise at the quantity of stock we were driving.

Jerry informed them that we had a large company a few hours’ ride to the north; and had been out purchasing some stock from another party, who were encamped to the south of us a few miles.

This information seemed to cause them some surprise; for they asked many questions concerning the strength of this last party, its destination, etc., all of which Jerry answered in a straightforward manner, to their evident satisfaction.

Cuchillo was very curious in regard to our revolvers,—­of which each man in our party had two, in addition to his rifle,—­and at last we determined to show them that we were well armed, and ready for any emergency.  I set up a small mark at the distance of sixty or seventy feet; and Jerry immediately emptied, in rapid succession, the contents of both revolvers, without stopping to reload.  This caused the greatest astonishment; and, in a short time, they began to manifest a disposition to leave.  With many professions of friendship, Jerry endeavored to persuade them to accompany us to our camp; but they declined, promising to visit us on the morrow; and, after a most affectionate farewell, Cuchillo and his braves left us, riding towards the south-west.

“There,” exclaimed Jerry, as soon as they were fairly off, “ef there don’t go as sneakin’ a varmint as there is in the whole Comanche nation, I’ll lose my guess.  They’ll go for that air camp to the southward, expectin’ to find some greenhorns; and I only hope they may find ’em.  The thing for us to do is to git our cattle into camp ez soon as possible.  We kin hurry ’em some, and I reckon we’d better do it.”

We made good progress for a couple of hours; and, on reaching the top of a “divide,” saw a large emigrant wagon drawn by three yoke of oxen, slowly making its way through the tall bottom grass of the valley beneath us, surrounded by quite a number of men on horseback.