The manoeuvre had occupied only a few seconds of time, and the horsemen
were yet distant. They had thrown themselves into a formation, and
_were riding_ "_by twos_!"
This movement took us by surprise. The tactics were not Indian:
Comanches never march in double file. The horsemen could not be
Indians. Who, then?
A sudden hope crossed my mind, that it might be a party of my own
people, out in search of me. "By twos" was our favourite and habitual
order of march. But no; the long lances and streaming pennons at once
dissipated the hope: there was not a lance in the American army. They
could not be "rangers."
Comanches on the _war-trail_ would have been armed with the lance, but
clearly they were _not_ Comanches.
"Wagh!" exclaimed Rube, after eyeing them intently. "Ef thur Injuns,
I'm a niggur! Ef thur Injuns, they've got beards an sombrayras, an thet
ain't Injun sign nohow. No!" he added, raising his voice, "thur a gang
o' yellur-bellied Mexikins! thet's what they ur."
All three of us had arrived simultaneously at the same conviction. The
horsemen were Mexicans.
It was no great source of rejoicing to know this; and the knowledge
produced no change in our defensive attitude. We well knew that a band
of Mexicans, armed as these were, could not be other than a hostile
party, and bitter too in their hostility. For several weeks past, the
_petite guerre_ had been waged with dire vengeance. The neutral ground
had been the scene of reprisals and terrible retaliations. On one side,
wagon-trains had been attacked and captured, harmless teamsters
murdered, or mutilated whilst still alive. I saw one with his arms cut
off by the elbow-joints, his heart taken out, and thrust between his
teeth! He was dead; but another whom I saw still lived, with the cross
deeply gashed upon his breast, on his brow, upon the soles of his feet,
and the palms of his hands--a horrid spectacle to behold!
On the other side, ranchos had been ransacked and ruined, villages given
to the flames, and men on mere suspicion shot down upon the spot or
hanged upon the nearest tree.
Such a character had the war assumed; and under these circumstances, we
knew that the approaching horsemen were our deadly foes.
Beyond a doubt, it was either a scouting-party of Mexican lancers, a
_guerrilla_, or a band of robbers. During the war, the two last were
nearly synonymous, and the first not unfrequently partook of the
character of both.
One thing that puzzled us--what could any of the three be doing in that
quarter?
The neutral ground--the scene of _guerrilla_ operations--lay between the
two armies; and we were now far remote from it; in fact, altogether away
from the settlements. What could have brought lancers, guerrilleros, or
robbers out upon the plains? There was no _game_ in that quarter for
any of these gentry--neither an American force to be attacked, nor a
traveller to be plundered! My own troop was the extreme out-picket in
this direction, and it was full ten miles off. The only thing likely to
be met with near the mesa would be a war-party of Comanches, and we knew
the Mexicans well enough to be convinced that, whether soldiers or
freebooters, they were _not_ in search of that.
Such reflections, made in double-quick time, occurred to us as we
scanned the advancing troop.
Up to this moment, they had ridden directly towards us, and were now
nearly in a line between us and the mesa.
On getting within about half-a-mile of our position, they turned sharply
towards the west, and rode as if to make round to our rear!
This manoeuvre of course placed us upon their flank; and now outlined
against the sky, we could distinctly trace their forms and note their
habiliments and armour. Nearly all wore broad-brimmed sombreros, with
jacket, sash, and calzoneros. They carried lances, lazoes, and carbines
or _escopettes_. We could distinguish sabres and _machetes_--the
universal weapon of the Mexican ranchero. They could not be drilled
troops. Their costumes, as well as a certain irregularity in their
manoeuvring, forbade this supposition. Their lances, moreover, were
borne in all sorts of ways--some couched, some resting in the stirrup
and held correctly, while others were carried over the shoulder like a
firelock! No, they could not be a troop of regulars. They were either
_guerrillos_ or true _salteadores_.
After riding nearly a half-circle round--still keeping at the same
distance--the troop suddenly made front towards as, and halted.
We had been puzzled by their going round; we could not divine their
object in so doing. It could not be to cut off our retreat. The timber
in the back direction was miles off. Had it been near enough, we should
certainly have retreated to it long before; but we knew it was too
distant. Rube and his old mare would have been overtaken by our
well-mounted enemies long ere we could have gained the woods; we knew
this, and therefore did not think of making the attempt. On the other
side was the _mesa_, which, by their late movement, had been left open
to us. It was but a half-mile off, and perhaps, by making a dash, we
might have reached it; but not a tree grew near it--except those on its
summit--and its rocky wall apparently offered no advantage to us, any
more than the open plain. The enemy seemed to be aware of this, else
they would not have ridden round, and by so doing left the way clear.
Until the moment of their halt, therefore, we remained ignorant of their
motive in moving to our rear. _Then_ it was explained. Their object
was evident to all of us: they had halted between us and the sun!
It was a cunning manoeuvre--worthy of a war-party of Indians--and told
us we had no common enemy to deal with. By approaching us from that
direction, they would have a decided advantage: our aim would be spoiled
by the sun--now low down upon the horizon, and gleaming right in our
eyes.
My companions were wroth at the trick that had been thus played so
adroitly; though we could not have hindered it even if forewarned of
their intention.
We were allowed but little time to reflect upon the matter; we saw by
the movements of the horsemen that they were preparing to charge. One
who appeared to be the leader, mounted upon a larger horse than any of
the rest was addressing them. He rode along the line speaking in a loud
tone, and gesticulating violently; he was answered with _vivas_, which
we could plainly hear. Every moment, we looked to see them gallop
forward.
We knew there was no alternative but fight or surrender--though not one
of us entertained an idea of the latter. For myself, I should as soon
have thought of turning my pistol to my own head. My uniform, tattered
as it was, would easily reveal my character to the enemy; and, if
captured, I knew that I should be hung, or perhaps, in the absence of
trees, shot down upon the spot. My comrades had reasons for knowing
that _their_ shrift would be equally short: neither thought for a moment
of tamely yielding.
"No!" emphatically pronounced Rube, "this child don't guv in, till he's
rubbed out, _he_ don't! Tarnation odd too!" he added, looking toward
the troop; "twelve agin three o' us. Durn the odds! I've got clur o'
wuss scrapes than't looks yit, and so've you, Bill Garey--hain't we,
boyee? Durn the odds! let 'em kum on!"
"Ay," responded Garey, without the slightest show of excitement, "they'd
better not come too near 'ithout telling thar bisness. I see one saddle
that I'll empy the minnit they pass yon weed." And the speaker
indicated a bunch of the _artemisia_ plant that grew some two hundred
paces off in the direction of the horsemen.
The reckless talk of the old trapper, with the contrasted cool bearing
of his younger companion, had fixed my nerves fully. At the first sight
of so many adversaries, I was not without some misgivings--in truth, I
felt fear. Such odds against us--four to one--was fair cause for
apprehension. But it was not my first fight against large odds, both
Indian and Mexican; and on that account, I regarded it the less
seriously.
Notwithstanding the superiority of our enemy in numbers, I knew we were
not so unequal. Unless shot down by the first volley of their carbines
and escopettes, each of our three rifles was sure of its man. I had
confidence in my own weapon, and a still more perfect reliance on those
of my comrades. They were men that never missed--men who never fired a
random shot--never drew trigger till their aim was sure. I felt
certain, therefore, that should the horsemen charge upon us, only _nine_
of the twelve would ever get within pistol-shot of us, and for that
distance we were well prepared. I carried in my belt a six-chambered
revolver, one of Colt's best; Garey had another--a present I had made
him many years before--and Rube was armed with a pair of stout
single-barrels, likely enough to do good service.
"Sev'nteen shots! wid our bowies to fall back upon!" cried Garey
triumphantly, as we finished a hasty survey of our arms.
As yet the enemy did not advance. Notwithstanding their _vivas_ and
ejaculations, they appeared to hesitate about charging. Their leader,
and another--a lieutenant, perhaps--were still seen riding along their
line, as if animating them by further speech, giving them orders how to
act.
Meanwhile, _we_ had not been idle; we had _formed square_ to receive the
charge!
You may smile, but such was in reality the case. We had formed square--
with our horses! There were four of them, for the wild-horse counted
one. Garey, who _rode_ like a Comanche, had broken him at our last
camp, and he was now perfectly tractable. The shake of a lazo rendered
him docile as a lamb.
The four were tied head to head, and croup to croup, and each formed one
side of the square. They could not have broken it even under a charge
of cavalry; bridles must be untied or cut, and lazoes set loose, before
that _formation_ could be destroyed!
Within stood we, fronting our foes--the large horse of Garey forming our
barricade towards them--our heads and feet alone visible to the enemy.
Thus did we await their onset.