They motioned the women and children back when the head of the train came up.

Jackson beckoned the leaders to the side of one wagon, partially burned.
"Look," said he, pointing.
A long stick, once a whipstock, rose from the front of the wagon bed.

It had been sharpened and thrust under the wrist skin of a human hand--a dried hand, not of a white man, but a red.

A half-corroded bracelet of copper still clung to the wrist.
"If I read signs right, that's why!" commented Bill Jackson.
"But how do you explain it ?" queried Hall.

"Why should they do that?
And how could they, in so close a fight ?" "They couldn't," said Jackson.