The tent I was leaving stood in the centre of a circumscribed clearing.
Ten paces from its front commenced the _chapparal_--a thicket of thorny
shrubs, consisting of acacia, cactus, the agave, yuccas, and copaiva
trees, mingled and linked together by lianas and vines of smilax,
sarsaparilla, jalap, and the climbing bromelias. There was no path save
that made by wild animals--the timid Mexican mazame and its pursuer, the
cunning coyote.
One of these paths I followed.
Its windings soon led me astray. Though the moon was shining in a
cloudless sky, I was soon in such a maze that I could neither tell the
direction of the tent I had left behind, nor that of the sufferer I had
sallied out in search of.
In sight there was no object to guide me. I paused in my steps, and
listened for a sound.
For some seconds there was a profound silence, unbroken even by the
groans of the wounded, some of whose voices were, perhaps, now silent in
death. The wolves, too, had suspended their hideous howlings, as though
their quest for prey had ended, and they were busily banqueting on the
dead.
The stillness produced a painful effect, even more than the melancholy
sounds that had preceded it I almost longed for their renewal.
A short while only did this irksome silence continue. It was terminated
by the voice I had before heard, this time in the utterance of a
different speech.
"_Soy moriendo! Lola--Lolita! a ver te nunca mas en este mundo_!" (I
am dying, Dolores--dear Dolores! never more shall I see you in this
world!)
"_Nunca mas en este mundo_!" came the words rapidly re-pronounced, but
in a voice of such different intonation as to preclude the possibility
of mistaking it either for an echo or repetition by the same speaker.
"No, never!" continued the second voice, in the same tone, and in a
similar _patois_. "Never again shall you look upon Lola--you, Calros
Vergara, who have kept me from becoming her husband; who have poisoned
her mind against me--"
"Ah! it is you, Rayas! What has brought you hither? Is it to torture a
dying man?"
"_Carajo_! I didn't come to do anything of the kind. I came to assure
myself that you _were_ dying--that's all. Vicente Vilagos, who has
escaped from this ugly affair, has just told me you'd got a bit of lead
through your body. I've sought you here to make sure that your wound
was fatal--as he said it was."
"_Santissima_! O Ramon Rayas! that is your errand?"
"You mistake--I have another: else I shouldn't have risked falling into
the hands of those damnable _Americanos_, who might take a fancy to send
one of their infernal bullets through my own carcass."
"What other errand? What want you with me? I am sore wounded--I
believe I am dying."
"First, as I've told you--to make sure that you _are_ dying; and
secondly, if that be the case, to learn before you _do_ die, what you
have done with Lola."
"Never. Dead or living, you shall not know from me. Go, go! _por amor
Dios_! do not torment a poor wretch in his last moments."
"Bah! Calros Vergara, listen to reason. Remember, we were boys
together--scourged in the same school. Your time's up; you can't
protect Lola any more. Why hinder me--I who love her as my own life?
I'm not so bad as people say, though I am accused of an inclination for
the _road_. That's the fault of the bad government we've got. Come!
don't leave the world like a fool; and Lola without a protector. Tell
me where you've hidden her--tell me that, and the n--"
"No! no! Leave me, Rayas! leave me! If I am to die, let me die in
peace."
"You won't tell me?"
"No--no--"
"Never mind, then; I'll find out in time, and no thanks to you. So, go
to the devil, and carry your secret along with you. If Lola be anywhere
within the four corners of Mexico, I'll track her up. She don't escape
from Rayas the _salteadur_!"
I could hear a rustling among the hushes: as if the last speaker, having
delivered his _ultimatum_, was taking his departure from the spot.