OUTLAWED
The caballero stopped his horse on the crest of a hill a mile from
the mission and looked back at the valley. For more than an hour he
had been riding aimlessly, aware that it would be worse than useless
to return at the present time and face the angered neophytes--angered
not so much because of their love for the man he had wounded, since
they never had seen him until this day, as because of the pain, they
thought, his defeat would cause Señorita Anita Fernandez, whom they had
learned to adore.
And now, in the distance, he observed a squad of horsemen leave the
plaza and start out along the road toward him, and he saw the sun
flashing from steel and knew them for soldiers.
“I did not think it of him--that he would have me pursued because of
a duel,” the caballero said, aloud. “The thrust could not have been
serious. Heaven knows I have used it many a time, and never death came
from it yet.”
He watched until the horsemen were within half a mile and then
remembered that he sat his steed against the sky and could be easily
seen. He was seen--for he heard the soldiers’ cries and saw that they
were spurring up their horses.
The caballero did not know this country as the troopers did, but he
made his way down the side of the hill to the floor of the cañon, where
there was a narrow trail, and along this he galloped swiftly, knowing
well his horse was as fresh and swift as any that followed.
At the end of a mile he stopped to listen, and heard the beating of
horses’ hoofs and the cries of their riders. He went on along the
cañon, hoping he would not find himself cornered against the side of
some steep hill where there would be no way of escape.
There was a curve in the trail presently, and rocks prevented him
seeing what was beyond, but he did not slacken his horse’s speed. He
took the curve on a run and emerged into an open space where there was
a tiny stream, a few dwarfed trees, green grass and wild flowers--an
oasis in a desert. Scores of teepees stood along the brook, heaps of
ashes told where fires had been. The caballero remembered his Indian
visitors had spoken of a camp in the cañon, and supposed this to be the
place.
But no horde of gentiles rushed from the teepees to accost him and
demand his business, and it was apparent that the camp had been
deserted. On the opposite side of the open space a trail led off toward
the south, and the caballero, without even pulling rein, rode toward
it, determined to follow it until he threw off pursuit.
His horse splashed across the brook and sprang into the mouth of the
trail, to half whirl with a snort of fright and start up the side
of the rocky hill. Swinging far out to one side and standing in his
stirrups, the caballero pulled on the reins and jerked the beast back
into the path--and an Indian grasped the bridle.
“_Señor!_” he shouted.
“Out of my way! The soldiers pursue!”
“Swing me up behind you, _señor_. There is a way of escape!”
“Haste, then!”
The Indian vaulted to the horse’s back; the animal dashed away up the
trail.
“The soldiers will travel slowly, _señor_, until they are past the
old camp,” the Indian shrieked in his ear. “They will fear an ambush
because you rode straight up the cañon. Watch to your right for an
arroyo--turn into it!”
There was scant time for speculation with the troopers at his heels,
and the caballero had no reason for believing the Indian was attempting
treachery, especially since his pursuers were soldiers. He came to the
arroyo and whirled the horse into it, sand and gravel flying in a cloud
behind as he rode. Far in the rear there was shouting, and a single
shot as some soldier fired his pistol, thinking he saw the quarry.
“On, _señor_,” the Indian urged.
The horse was having heavy going in the sand with the double burden
on its back, but the caballero urged the animal to do its utmost. The
arroyo ran into another cañon fringed with stunted trees, and continued
into a sort of basin, where there seemed but the one way in or out. It
looked like a death trap.
The Indian sprang to the ground and ran ahead. He parted a clump of
brush, and the caballero saw the mouth of a cave big enough for a
horseman to enter. He did not hesitate when his guide motioned that he
was to ride inside, but he did not ride in--he dismounted and led the
horse, and one hand gripped the butt of his pistol.
The Indian closed the brush about the entrance and turned to lead the
way, walking a few paces ahead of the caballero, and soon they were in
darkness.
“Follow closely, _señor_,” he said. “It would not do to have a light
here, but the floor is level and safe.”
Since he was this far, there was nothing else to be done, so the
caballero followed, half expecting to come to combat at any moment,
straining his ears for whispers ahead or sounds of the pursuit behind.
They reached a large-sized chamber, and the Indian took him by the hand
to guide him across it, and on the other side they entered a narrow
tunnel, made a turning, and so came to where they could see a streak of
light in the distance.
“It is safe to stop here, _señor_,” the Indian said. “The soldiers
do not know of this cave beneath the hill, and, if they found the
entrance, they would fear to enter without torches. At a late hour you
can leave safely. Just ahead is a way out, and it is on the other side
of the hill.”
“So your camp in the cañon is abandoned?” the caballero asked, sitting
on a boulder.
“We slipped away early, _señor_, a few of us at a time, not taking
the trouble to remove the teepees. The word has been sent to all, and
men are leaving every rancheria and village. We obeyed as soon as we
received your message.”
“As soon as you----? Yes, of course!”
“By the middle of to-night nearly all will be on the Fernandez rancho,
_señor_. Every hut will be crowded, and there will be a big camp in the
cañon there. It was wise to make the gathering-place there, _señor_,
where hundreds of men may hide until all is ready. And from there it is
an easy five miles across the hills to the mission.”
“I understand that.”
“We considered it clever of you, also, to send the word from San Luis
Rey de Francia and in a roundabout manner. It was well that we were
warned that all had been discovered, and that the big sergeant from
Santa Barbara had come along El Camino Real to put missions and the
presidio on guard.”
The caballero sat up straight and looked keenly at the face he scarcely
could see in the gloom.
“I did not know that,” he said.
“You did not know it? The old man beside the roadway at San Luis Rey
de Francia sent out the warning. This sergeant told the frailes there
that the conspiracy was known, that the Governor was coming south with
soldiers, and that in the north leaders had been seized and thrown in
prison to be shot. But Captain Fly-by-Night, the greatest leader of
all, was at San Diego de Alcalá and was to be taken immediately, before
he could join the Indians--that was the word, _señor_. Thank Heaven you
were not taken!”
“So they have orders to take Captain Fly-by-Night, eh?” cried the
caballero. “Now I know why those troopers were eager to catch me.”
“What did you think, _señor_?”
“I had an argument at San Diego de Alcalá with the man they call
Rojerio Rocha, who arrived this morning--a sword argument, gentile--and
I ran him through. I supposed the soldiers sought me because of that.
Catch Captain Fly-by-Night, eh?” The caballero rose and paced the floor
of the cave, laughing to himself so loudly that the gentile before
him cautioned silence. “So all is known, eh? I am to be taken dead or
alive, I suppose? Now I am, indeed, cut off from all reputable persons.”
“Then now is the time to strike the blow, _señor_. We can be victorious
if we strike it before the Governor comes. We can wipe the mission and
presidio from the earth, _señor_! We can devastate every rancho! And
when we start, the word will run up the coast, and at other posts and
missions our friends will strike. We cannot fail, _señor_! Give the
word--give the word to-night!”
“If I counsel that you wait?”
“Why delay? Other leaders have been seized. If we do not strike
successfully, suspected gentiles and neophytes will be slain by
hundreds by the Governor’s men. It is all in your hands now, _señor_.
You will be like a king! Give the word to-night!”
“If I think it best to delay----?”
“I am afraid, _señor_, that the men will not do as you order, in that
case. They are frightened now. They know they are lost if they do not
strike immediately. They may even turn against you----”
“Hah!”
“It is to be expected, _señor_--many of them will pay forfeit with
their lives if the conspiracy is not successful. Come with me to the
rancho as soon as night falls, _señor_--and give the word. Every hour
we delay they will be making preparations at the mission and presidio.”
“At least,” replied the caballero, “I’ll go with you to the rancho at
fall of night.”
The Indian showed his delight in his face. Without a word he slipped
away down the cave toward the streak of light in the distance, and the
caballero stood beside his horse, listening, waiting, trying to pierce
the gloom with his eyes.
“Dead or alive, eh?” he muttered. “I would I had slain this pretty
gentleman at San Diego de Alcalá when I had the opportunity!”
It was an hour before the gentile returned--an hour during which the
caballero often led his horse through the cave to the exit and looked
out over the valley, but dared not leave until he received the Indian’s
report. And then the native slipped in past the rocks and stood before
him.
“I have been over the hill, _señor_,” he said. “The soldiers burned the
camp in the cañon and then went back. They have been scattered over the
hills, and two rode away down the valley, probably to spread the alarm
and warn rancho owners to watch for you. It will soon be dark, and we
can leave this cave.”
“The soldiers will remain in the hills for the night?” the caballero
asked.
“They would fear to do that, _señor_, if they think we contemplate
an attack. They will return to the mission, perhaps, and spend the
night there, and go into the hills at dawn again. Two men remain at
the presidio with the sergeant who brought the warning, I heard them
say. If we could take the presidio to-night, _señor_, and get the arms
there----”
“It may be a trap,” the caballero said. “I know the tricks of the
soldiers, remember. It would be better to be guided by me in these
matters.”
The gentile replied nothing, but the expression of his face told
that he was not pleased. For another hour they remained in the cave,
scarcely speaking, and then the Indian crept to the entrance, remained
there for a time, and returned to say that it was time to go.
Emerging from the cavern, they made their way slowly, and as silently
as possible, down the slope to the floor of the cañon, and along this
they hurried, the Indian leading, the caballero walking beside his
horse.
Out upon a plain trail that ran to the south the caballero mounted,
with the gentile behind him. At a trot they went along the trail,
stopping now and then to listen for sounds of other horsemen, the
caballero waiting at every likely ambush until the Indian had made an
investigation.
For a time they followed another arroyo, finally to come into a broad
valley where there were fields of grain and horses and cattle. At the
crest of the slope lights glittered in the buildings of the rancho.
But the Indian did not indicate that they were to go toward the lights.
He whispered directions in the caballero’s ear, and they circled the
buildings, and so came to the bank of a creek flowing from a group of
springs. Down this they made their way to a small basin. A voice hailed
them; the gentile answered; they went on. And then they turned the base
of a hill and came within sight of two score campfires and groups of
teepees, where half-naked gentiles danced around the flames, and others
squatted on the ground watching.
In an instant they were surrounded and questions hurled at them,
menacing at first, better-natured when the caballero’s guide made
himself heard and gave the identity of the man with whom he rode. A
young chief ordered his followers to one side, and himself took the
caballero’s bridle, and led the horse past the fires to a teepee at
the end of the row. There the caballero dismounted and sat upon a skin
spread on the ground. No word was spoken while a man brought out food
and wine and the caballero ate.
One by one other chiefs made their appearance to sit before the fire in
a circle. In the distance groups of warriors gathered to look at their
leaders and talk in low tones.
“We have had a messenger, _señor_,” a chief spoke, finally. “He came
from the mission at nightfall. All is known to the soldiers, this man
says. They have orders to capture you, dead or alive. The Governor is
coming south with a large force. Our friends in the north wait for us
to act. And we await the word from you.”
“You will be guided by me in this matter?” the caballero asked.
“If you counsel immediate attack, _señor_. What is to be gained now by
delay? The soldiers from the north may arrive within three days. If we
strike now, we succeed before they come.”
Grunts of approval came from the others, and the caballero, looking
around the circle, read in the faces there that the words of the
spokesman expressed the sentiments of all.
“We have considered the matter to-day,” the chief went on. “Our leaders
in the north have been seized. Of all white men who aided us in forming
this plan, you alone are at liberty. We thank you, _señor_, for what
you have done. We want to follow you, yet. But we cannot unless you
give the word now. Our race is strong in itself, _señor_; often before
we have waited on the words of white men and been betrayed.”
“What is it you want me to do?” the caballero asked.
“Give the word, _señor_! Our friends at San Luis Rey de Francia will
be ready to strike the blow two nights from now, and it is proper we
strike together. What say you, _señor_?”
“I counsel longer delay,” the caballero replied.
“Can you give us good reason?” the chief demanded. “Your words are
peculiar to our ears, _señor_. We had expected you would be eager to
make the move. Many things have mystified us, and we are suspicious
because of what has happened before. As I said, we have considered the
matter, and we have reached a decision.”
“What is it, then?”
“Either give us the word now to attack in two nights’ time, or we
attack without your word, _señor_. To be certain there will be no
treachery we will hold you prisoner here, but well treated, until the
attack is begun. We do this because of the aid you have given our
cause. And after it is over you shall be treated with respect, and no
man will harm you. Lead us in two nights’ time, _señor_, or we strike
without your leadership and keep you prisoner until the work is done.”
The caballero swept the circle with his eyes; every man there seemed to
approve.
“There are many plans to be made yet,” he said. “I must counsel delay
for a time.”
“We have made all plans while awaiting you, _señor_. It is but for you
to lead. The plans may be discussed in half a day’s time, and changed
if we decide they should be. If there is a rancho you wish spared, or a
man or woman saved----”
“Do I not know what is best in this matter?” the caballero demanded.
“Do as I instruct, or I will have nothing further in common with you!”
“That is your answer, _señor_?”
“It is. I counsel more delay!”
“Then we have decided. You will remain in this camp until the blow is
struck. I regret, _señor_, that your ideas are not ours, but we have
gone too far to risk failure. Our friendship for you remains the same;
it is merely a disagreement between leaders in a council of war. You
will remain in the camp as we ask, _señor_?”
“Suppose I prefer to ride?” said the caballero.
“We cannot take that risk, _señor_. If you leave, we must consider you
an enemy.”
Another series of grunts came from the circle; again the caballero read
determination in the faces that confronted him. He got up, and the
others did likewise.
“I suppose I may have a teepee, food, picket my horse?” he asked.
“You shall have every courtesy, _señor_. This teepee is yours, food
will be furnished, you may picket your horse behind you.”
“So be it!”
The caballero caught the reins from the Indian who had been holding
them and led the animal to the rear of the teepee. The chiefs scattered
to their own huts; the men resumed their dancing around the fires. The
caballero threw the reins over his horse’s head and started to fumble
at the cinch of the saddle.
The spokesman turned his head aside for an instant to look at the
dancers, and in that instant, the caballero vaulted to the horse’s
back, shrieked a cry in the animal’s ear, gathered up reins and applied
spurs, and dashed past the chief and down the arroyo.
Shrieks of surprise and fear rolled from a hundred throats. The group
about the first fire scattered; the horse kicked the embers in the
faces of the gentiles. Down the line of fires the caballero rode like
a madman, hurling Indians right and left, while behind the chiefs,
realising what he was doing, yelled orders to take him, screamed for
horsemen to go in pursuit, called for weapons.
Pistols exploded, bullets whistled past him as he rode. Unscathed he
reached the darkness and dashed down the valley, while the hoofs of
hard-ridden ponies pounded in pursuit. He fired his pistol in the face
of an Indian sentinel who would have sprung at the horse’s head--and
then he rode madly, blindly, trusting to the sure-footedness of the
steed he bestrode.
The animal took the backward track, half maddened with fear and gunning
like the wind. The caballero bent low over the beast’s neck and let
reins fall free. He did not fear being overtaken, but he did not know
what was ahead. Soldiers sought him--dead or alive. Indians would slay
him without hesitation now, fearful he would use treachery against
them. El Camino Real was watched. Rancho owners were on the alert for
him. He was an outlaw in truth, and in a strange country.
Mile after mile he rode, until his horse began to stagger in its
stride, and then, emerging from the mouth of a cañon he saw lights in
the distance and stopped to reconnoitre. The wash of the sea came to
his ears. The horse had circled the valley--and the lights ahead were
in the presidio.
“Now I _am_ cut off,” quoth the caballero, “from the society of all
persons, both reputable and disreputable! Riding alone, however, I
shall not be hindered by the opinions of followers. And--by all the
saints!--I have much work to do!”