José — page 58: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JOSE, 51 proached near enough to be distinguished. Dirty woolen blankets enveloped half-starved forms that were seated on ponies even sorrier in appearance than their masters. Their long hair was tied in a rough coil at the back of their heads, and on the whole their looks betokened a desire rather to beg than to shed blood. Only one of the trio appeared to carry arms, a long rusty rifle strapped upon his back. They passed within five feet of our horseman who, but for their treacherous looks, would have felt a touch of compassion for the emaciated con- dition of these men. | On sighting the train, the Indians retired some distance from the trail, without: however, suffering it to pass out of their range of view, while Bau- mann, puzzled to account for their mysterious ap- pearance, decided that the best course of action would be to turn back at once and rejoin his com- panions. He was met by the wagon-boss before he had passed half the distance between him and the - train. “I saw them some time ago,” was the reply, as Baumann related his singular encounter. “Their appearance so near the border betokens no good. The tribe of which they are members is too far reduced to venture open hostilities even against a solitary white man, but they are as thievish as a fox. No doubt they have long ago known of our approach.” They rode on together in silence until they reached the edge of a deep fracture in the soil, apparently the bed of an exhausted creek, through which a well-beaten wagon trail indicated that previous ex- peditions had crossed to the opposite side. “These are their favorite haunts,” the wagon-boss Gomichboo CS (E(0)