There seemed to be no dangers lurking south of the Red River. All had been peace and harmony here. But tomorrow we would be pushing our cattle across the river. Above the Red our safety and welfare could be threatened at any time. There seemed to be no difference in the landscape on the north side of the Red from that of the south side. It looked much the same on both sides of the river to almost everyone's eyes. But through my eyes, I could see the mutilated bodies of Montclair and the Mexicans in the early morning sun, the devious handiwork of unknown fiendish devils whose faces remained anonymous to me.

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