After having uselessly discharged their carbines several times, from too
great a distance for the balls to be dangerous, Oroche and Baraja had
rejoined Cuchillo.
The outlaw was as pale as death; the ball fired at him by the Canadian
had creased his head, and it was this had caused him to fall from his
horse. Doubtless Bois-Rose would then have crushed him, like a venomous
reptile, but for the horse. The noble animal, seeing that his master
could not raise himself unaided, bent down that he might seize his mane,
and so reach the saddle, and when he felt his master once more firmly
seated on his back, he had set off at full gallop, and carried him away
beyond the reach of Bois-Rose.
This was not the only danger run by the outlaw. When his accomplices
had rejoined him and all three had come up with Don Estevan and Diaz,
another danger was in store for him. The Spaniard had no need to
interrogate Cuchillo in order to learn that Fabian had once more
escaped. From the disappointed air of the two followers, and the
paleness of the outlaw, who was still tottering in his saddle, Don
Estevan guessed all.
Deceived in his expectation, the rage of the Spaniard burst out. He
rode up to Cuchillo, crying, in a voice of thunder, "Cowardly and clumsy
knave!" and in his blind fury, without reflecting that Cuchillo alone
knew the secret of the Golden Valley, he drew his pistol. Luckily for
the outlaw, Pedro Diaz threw himself quickly between him and Don
Estevan, whose fury gradually subsided.
"And those men who are with him--who are they?" cried he.
"The two tiger-killers," replied Baraja.
A short deliberation took place in a low voice between Don Estevan and
Pedro Diaz, which ended by these words, pronounced aloud:
"We must destroy the bridge of the Salto de Agua, and the devil is in it
if they overtake us before we reach Tubac;" and at this they all set off
at full gallop.
Fabian had heard Don Estevan say to Cuchillo, the night before, that he
should only pass two hours at the hacienda before his departure; and as
the last events which had taken place at Don Augustin's must have tended
to shorten his stay, there was no time to hesitate. The horse of Pepe
became a precious auxiliary in following the fugitives, and, if
necessary, for cutting off their retreat. It remained to be decided who
should mount him, and undertake an enterprise so perilous as opposing
singly the flight of five armed horsemen.
"I shall follow them," said Fabian.
So saying, he rushed towards the animal, who recoiled in terror; but
seizing the cord by which he was tethered, the young man threw a
handkerchief over his eyes. Trembling in every limb, the horse remained
quiet, while Fabian brought Pepe's saddle, which he placed on his back,
and then arranged the lazo so as to form at once a bridle and a snaffle.
He was about to mount without removing the handkerchief, when Pepe, at
a sign from Bois-Rose, interposed.
"Gently," said he, "if any one here has a right to mount this animal, it
is I--I who captured him, and to whom he belongs."
"Do you not see," cried Fabian, impatiently, "that he is not _branded_,
which shows that he has never yet been mounted? if you care for the
safety of your limbs, I advise you not to try him."
"That is my business," said Pepe, advancing; but scarcely had the animal
felt his hand on the pommel, and his foot on the stirrup, than with a
furious bound he threw him ten feet off. Pepe uttered an angry oath,
but Fabian vaulted into the saddle without touching the stirrups.
"Stop! Fabian, stop!" cried Bois-Rose, in a tone of anguish, "you must
not go alone and risk falling into their hands."
But already Fabian had removed the handkerchief; and the noble animal,
his eyes restored to the light, made furious efforts to free himself
from a weight which he felt for the first time, but at last stood
motionless and trembling. Bois-Rose profited by this moment to seize
the bridle, but was shaken off by another furious bound, and the
terrified animal rushed away with such impetuosity that it was no longer
in human power to restrain him. For a few moments the Canadian watched
the intrepid rider struggling with the fury of the horse, and then both
disappeared from his sight.
"They will kill him," cried he; "they are five to one. Let us follow as
closely as we can, Pepe, to protect once more my lately recovered
child."
Bois-Rose threw his rifle over his shoulder, and was already taking
gigantic strides after Fabian.
"The horse is difficult to manage," cried he; "I am certain that he will
not go straight! we shall perhaps arrive as soon as he. Ah! Don
Estevan, your evil star has guided you to these outlaws."
Fabian, like those legendary cavaliers whom nothing appals, passed with
fearful rapidity over hillocks, ravines, and fallen trunks of trees.
Pepe was not wrong; in spite of the start that the pursued had of him,
Fabian would soon have overtaken them, could he have guided his horse;
but luckily, or unluckily for him, the intractable animal deviated
constantly from the track; and it was only after prodigious efforts that
he could bring him back to the road, which wound through the wood, and
on which the traces of the five fugitives were visible, and thus the
pursuer constantly lost ground.
However, after an hour of this struggle, the horse began to find that he
had met with his master, and that his strength was becoming exhausted;
the curb, held by a vigorous hand, compressed his jaws, his speed
gradually relaxed, his bounds became less violent, and he ended by
obeying the hand which guided him. As if by common consent, man and
horse stopped to take breath. Fabian profited by this rest to look
around him; his heart began to beat less rapidly and he could both hear
and see. Trampled leaves, newly broken branches and the prints of
horses' feet, were clear indications of the passage of those who fled
before him.
Suddenly the sound of falling water struck upon his ear. In another
moment the fugitives would have gained the rustic bridge which crossed
the wide and deep bed of the torrent; their united efforts might destroy
it, and then all pursuit would be useless. While he was seeking for a
ford Don Estevan would escape through the vast plains which extended to
Tubac. This thought aroused anew the young man's passion; and, pressing
his horse's side he galloped along the path, the windings of which still
hid his enemies from view. This time his horse had grown docile and
flew along the road.
The noise of the torrent soon drowned that of the horse's feet, but
before long human voices mingled with it. This sound produced upon
Fabian as powerful an effect as his repeated blows did upon his horse; a
few minutes more and he would confront the enemies whom he was burning
to reach. The impetuous pace of a horse excites a man to the greatest
degree; horse and rider react upon each other, and Fabian in his
excitement forgot the inequality of numbers, therefore the spectacle
which met his eyes was one that caused him a bitter disappointment.
As already stated, a bridge composed of trunks of trees roughly cut,
joined the two steep banks, between which roared the Salto de Agua.
This bridge, broad enough for a horse to pass over, rested at each end
on the bare rock without anything to secure it, and the strength of a
few men might overturn the trees and render the crossing impossible.
Just as Fabian reached the bridge, four horses, urged on by their
riders, were pulling vigorously, with ropes attached to the trees, which
at that moment yielding, fell with a crash into the torrent.
Fabian uttered a cry of rage. A man turned round--it was Don Estevan,
but Don Estevan separated from him by an impassable barrier, and looking
triumphantly at him.
Fabian, his clothes torn to pieces by the brambles, and his face so
transformed by fury as to be scarcely recognisable, rushed forward in
his blind rage to cross the river. But his horse reared violently and
refused to proceed.
"Fire on him!" cried Don Estevan, "or the madman will derange all our
plans. Fire, I tell you!"
Three carbines were already pointed at Fabian, when at some distance
behind him loud voices were heard, and Pepe and the Canadian appeared.
At the sight of these formidable rifles, the outlaws hesitated; Fabian
made a new effort, but the frightened horse plunged and reared as
before.
"Fire!" again cried Don Estevan.
"Woe to him who does!" shouted the Canadian, "and you, Fabian, in
heaven's name, retire!"
"Yes, it is I, Fabian!" cried the Count, in a voice which drowned the
thunder of the torrent and the cries of the hunters, "Fabian, who comes
to avenge his mother's blood upon the infamous Don Antonio de Mediana!"
Then, while his voice still sounded in the ears of Don Estevan, who for
the first time in his life stood motionless with terror, the impetuous
young man drew his knife and pricked his horse with it.
This time the animal gave a furious leap across the gulf and reached the
opposite bank; but one of his feet slipped, and after a short struggle
he fell backwards, both horse and rider disappearing in the flood. A
cry of anguish burst from the Canadian and one of triumph from the
opposite bank; but both were quickly drowned by the roar of the torrent
as it closed over its double prey.