By El Cascabel's orders, repeatedly are the big muskets re-loaded and
fired into the _corral_, till every wagon has had a bullet through it,
and the tent is pierced in several places. But all with the same
effect, the shots eliciting no other response than their own echoes.
Now the Indians know for sure that the camp is unoccupied; and, but for
their foreknowledge of the topography of the place, would be mystified
indeed. But most of them have themselves been on the summit of
Nauchampa-tepetl, and their eyes turn interrogatively towards it.
Thither the white men must have retreated, leaving everything below.
They see nothing, however; not as much as a face. For Don Estevan has
directed those by the head of the gorge to keep well under cover, in
hopes of tempting the savages to an ascent in the face of his formidable
battery.
But the Coyotero chief is too astute for that, knowing, moreover, that
there is no chance for the despised enemy to escape him. Wrathful he is
withal, at having been in a way outwitted, angry at himself for having
made the surround so slowly. It will cost him a siege, he knows not how
long, interfering with the expedition to the Horcasitas, perhaps to its
abandonment. But there is some compensation in the plunder so
unexpectedly come upon, and from what he sees it should be an ample one.
Six large wagons with a grand _tienda--litera_ also--visible, to say
nothing of the numerous animals, a travelling party so well-appointed
should also have commodities in correspondence, promising a rich prize.
The camp is good as captured already; but instead of hastening on to
take possession, he proceeds slowly and systematically as ever; for
nothing can be gained by speed now, and some thing may be lost--the
loose animals. They are still crowded up in the embayment between the
cliffs, but with heads aloft and ears apeak, neighing, snorting, and
restless, as if about to make a break.
"Leave aside arms, all--guns, and spears!" commands the chief. "Get
ready the _riatas_!"
All together drop down from their horses, those who carry spears
sticking them upright in the ground, those with firelocks laying them
along it. Any _impedimenta_ of baggage and accoutrements are also
pulled off and flung beside. Then they vault back upon their animals,
each with but his trail-rope carried in coil over the left arm, to be
used as a _lazo_.
Thus disencumbered and equipped, they at length advance, not for the
camp, but the _caballada_; but ere they can close up the mouth of the
cove the white men's animals become more affrighted than ever, and make
the burst they had been threatening--horses, mules, and oxen all
together. With a noise of thunder, the ground echoes the tread of their
hundreds of hooves, as in frenzied madness they rush out for the open
plain. Little chance would there be of their reaching it but that the
Indian horses catch the stampede, too, many of them becoming
unmanageable. The enfilading line is broken, and through its riven
ranks the camp animals sweep as a hurricane. One is in the lead--a
large horse, coal-black, on whom many an Indian had set eye, with _lazo_
ready for his capture. Crusader it is, his neigh heard above all
others, as, with head on high, mane tossed, and tail streaming afar, he
dashes at the severed line; again uttered, as it were exultingly, when,
having cleared it, he sees no enemy before him. Half a dozen nooses are
flung at and after him, all ill-directed; all fall short, and slide from
his glistening flanks, while as many disappointed cries follow him in
chorus.
All is scamper and confusion now; the surround has failed, the stampede
taken place, and the stampeded animals, such as succeeded in getting
off--for not all went clear--can only be captured after a chase. But
the Indian horses quickly get over their scare, and are laid on the
pursuit till a stream of them stretches out on the _llano_. Fresher and
in better condition than the camp animals, these are soon overtaken and
noosed, now one, now another, till at length only a single horse is seen
beyond the pursuing line.
Followed still, but so far beyond it, at each bound widening the
distance, that a pair of eyes watching the chase, at first
apprehensively, now sparkle with delight. For they are the eyes of his
own master, Henry Tresillian, standing on the _mesa's_ summit behind a
screening tree.
Half a score of the savages still continue the pursuit, among them their
chief himself. For he would give much to be the owner of that matchless
steed, and now strains his own to the utmost. All in vain. Crusader
forges farther and farther away, till he is but a speck upon the plain.
Then the baffled pursuers, one after another, give up discouraged, at
length El Cascabel also coming to a stop, and turning to ride back with
an air of angry disappointment.
The English youth, yielding to a thrill of proud exultation, waves his
cap in the air, giving utterance to a triumphant "Hurrah!"
"I'm so glad he's got away from them," he says, to Vicente, by his side;
"wherever he may go or whatever become of him. My noble Crusader! But
wasn't it clever? Wasn't it grand?"
"Wonderful!" responds the _gambusino_, alike moved to admiration. "I
never saw horse behave so in all my born life. _Santissima_! he must be
a witch, if not the _demonio_ himself."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Indians, leading back the captured animals, and recovering their
arms, no longer delay entering the camp. Which, to their chagrin, they
find not only abandoned, but wellnigh despoiled, as if other plunderers
had been there before them! That much has been carried off, and of
course of the most valuable kind, is evinced by boxes broken open, bales
unroped and the contents extracted, with here and there empty spaces in
the wagons, where evidently something had been stored. There is little
left for them save the refuse, or effects of a nature to be of no use to
them. What care they for mining tools and machinery?
More than ever are they angry and regretful of their ill-judged delay;
but vow deadlier vengeance, when the time comes for it.
Still that may not be soon. The very fashion of retreat shows it to
have been made with deliberation, and that the white men intend standing
a siege, with the hopes and the wherewithal to hold out ever so long.
And they, the Indians, knowing the danger of breasting that steep in the
face of resolute defenders, have no thought of attempting it. But the
goods that have been carried up must remain there, and sooner or later
fall into their hands.
So consoling themselves, the new occupants of the camp settle down to
the siege, after having secured their animals--both their own and those
they have just come into possession of. All are put out to grass,
"hoppled" or tethered on trail-ropes. Then the fires, found
smouldering, are replenished with fresh fuel, and blaze up brightly as
ever, with spits and roasting joints all round them.
This day the Coyoteros dine on beef, instead of their customary diet of
_mezcal_ and baked horseflesh. And a plenteous repast they make. Not
for a long time have they had such an opportunity of gormandising. In
their desert land of Apacheria provisions are scarce--often to
starvation-point; and they now feast gluttonously, as if to make up for
many a fast.
Nor are they without drinkables, though none brought they along with
them. In a corner of one of the wagons is a cask--which on being tapped
is found to be filled with _chingarita_--a fiery spirit distilled from
the very plant, chief staple of their food--the _mezcal_. The Coyoteros
know it well, and though they do not themselves distil, they drink it,
and are so fond of it as to wonder why the cask is there, and not also
carried up the mountain!
Drawn out, and rolled to the middle of the _corral_, they dance in
delight around it, repeatedly quaffing from their calabash cups, with
such an accompaniment of noises that the camp, lately occupied by men
and women, might seem to have come into the possession of devils.
And so on till night. Then demon-like indeed are the forms seen
flitting around its fires, and as much the faces, lit up by the red
glare from blazing fagots of _mezquite_ and _pinon_--both resinous
trees. Still more the discordant sounds, a chorus of cries and
ejaculations, in mad wild yelling, as of Bedlam broke loose.