Though our enemies were once more in motion, we no longer anticipated a
direct attack; the time for that had passed. The fate of their comrade
had evidently checked their ardour, and too much shouting and bravado
had cooled, rather than heightened, their enthusiasm.
We could tell by their manoeuvring that some new mode of assault had
been planned, and was about to be practised.
"Cowardly skunks!" muttered Rube; "they hain't the pluck to charge us!
Who ever heerd o' fair fight in a Mexikin? Damn 'em, thur arter some
trick," he continued, in a more serious tone. "What do 'ee think it be,
Billee?"
"I'm thinkin', old boy," replied Garey, whose keen grey eye had been for
some time fixed on the movements of the guerrilla--"I'm thinkin' thar
a-goin to gallup roun, an try a shot at us Injun fashion."
"Yur right," assented Rube; "thet's thur game! Scalp me ef 'taint!
Look yanner!--thur they go!"
The horsemen were no longer in line, nor formed in any fashion.
Irregularly grouped, they exhibited a "clump" upon the prairie, some
standing still, others in motion.
As Rube uttered the last words, one of them was seen to shoot out from
the main body, spurring his steed into a gallop as he parted from the
crowd.
One might have fancied he was about to ride off from the ground: but no;
that was not his intention. When he had made half-a-dozen stretches
over the plain, he guided his horse into a curve, evidently with the
design of riding around us.
As soon as he had gained some score of yards from the troop, a second
horseman followed, repeating the manoeuvre; and then another and
another, until five of the band, thus deployed, galloped round us in
circles. The remaining six kept their ground.
We observed that the five had left their lances behind them, and carried
only their carbines.
We were not astonished at this: we divined the intention of our enemies.
They were about to practise an old prairie-tactic--a stratagem of the
horse-Indians--with which all three of us were familiar.
We might have been more apprehensive about the result had it been really
Indians who were going to practise the manoeuvre--since in an attack of
this kind, the bow, with its many missiles in a minute, is far more
dangerous than either carbine or rifle. But the fact that our
assailants understood the stratagem, told us we were opposed to men who
had seen Indian fight--no doubt, the picked men of the frontier--and to
defend ourselves would require all the courage and cunning we possessed.
It did not surprise us that only a portion of the band galloped out to
effect the surround; there was design in that, and we knew it. The five
who had been detached were to wheel round us in circles, dash at
intervals within range, fire their carbines, kill some of our horses,
keep us distracted, and if possible, _draw_ the fire of our rifles.
This purpose effected, the other six--who had already approached as near
as was safe for them--would charge forward, empty their guns, and then
use their lazoes with effect.
Of this last _weapon_ my companions had more dread than of all the
others carried by our foes. They had reason. They knew that our rifles
once empty, the lazo could be used beyond pistol-range; and by such men,
with far surer aim than either carbine or escopette!
We were allowed but scant time to entertain these doubts, fears, and
conjectures, or to communicate them to one another. They passed before
us like the lightning's flash: the quicker that they were old thoughts--
things familiar from experience. We were conscious that the stratagem
of our enemy had increased the peril of our situation; but we thought
not yet of yielding to despair.
In an instant we had altered our relative positions. The three of us no
longer fronted in one direction, but stood back to back--each to guard
the third of the circle before his face. Thus stood we, rifles in hand.
The five horsemen were not slow in the execution of their manoeuvre.
Once or twice they galloped round us in a wide circle; and then
following a spiral curve, drew nearer and nearer.
When within carbine-range, each fired his piece; and, retreating outward
upon the main body, hastily exchanged his empty gun for one that was
loaded, and galloped back as before.
In the first volley, most of their bullets, discharged at random, had
passed over our heads. We heard them hissing in the air high above us.
One, however, had been better aimed, and struck Rube's mare in the hip,
causing the old mustang to squeal and kick violently. It did but little
damage, though it was an earnest of what we might expect; and it was
with increased apprehension that we saw the horsemen come back on their
circling career.
You will wonder why we did not return their fire? Our guns carried as
far as theirs. Why did we not use them, while the horsemen were within
range? Not one of the three of us thought of drawing a trigger! You
will wonder at this? It requires explanation.
Know, then, that the five men who galloped round us were five of the
best horsemen in the world--no doubt the picked riders of the band. Not
in Arabia, not in the hippodromes of Paris or London, could they have
found their superiors--perhaps not their equals--for these men literally
live in the saddle. Each, as he approached the dangerous circle covered
by our rifles, disappeared _behind the body of his horse_. A boot and
spur over the hollow of the deep saddle-tree, perhaps a hand grasping
the wither-lock of the horse, were all of the rider that could be seen.
Presently a face might be observed, suddenly veiled by a puff of smoke
from the carbine, and then ducked instantly out of sight. Perhaps the
barrel of the piece might be noticed glancing along the horse's counter,
while the stream of fire pouring forth, told that the rider had taken
aim under the throat of his steed, the latter all the while going at
full gallop!
During these manoeuvres, sharp shots as my comrades were, and fair
marksman as I was myself, there was no instant when we could have hit
any one of the five horsemen. It would have been easier to have brought
down a bird upon the wing. Their horses we might have killed or
crippled, but that would not have repaid us for the risk of an empty
rifle. We dared not waste a bullet on the horses. That was our reason
for reserving our fire.
Do not fancy from this my prolixity of explanation, that _we_ were so
slow in comprehending all these points. No, we understood our situation
well enough; we knew that to discharge our pieces--even though a horse
should fall to every shot--was just what the enemy desired. That was
the main object of their _ruse_; but we were too well used to the wiles
of Indian warfare to be beguiled by so shallow an artifice. Words of
caution passed between us, and we stood to our guns with as much
patience as we could command.
It was tempting enough--provoking, I should rather say--thus to be fired
at, without the chance of returning it; and my companions,
notwithstanding their habitual coolness, chafed angrily under the
infliction.
Once more the five horsemen came galloping around us, and discharged
their pieces as before; but this time with more effect. A bullet struck
Garey in the shoulder, tearing away a patch of his hunting-shirt, and
drawing the blood; while another went whizzing past the cheek of Old
Rube, creasing his catskin cap!
"Hooray!" shouted the latter, clapping his hand over the place where the
lead had wounded him. "Clost enough thet wur! Cuss me, eft hain't
carried away one o' my ears!"
And the old trapper accompanied the remark with a wild, reckless laugh.
The rent of the bullet, and the blood upon Garey's shoulder, now fell
under his eye, and suddenly changing countenance, he exclaimed--
"By the 'tarnal! yur hit, Bill? Speak, boyee!"
"It's nothin'," promptly replied Garey--"nothin'; only a grease. I
don't feel it."
"Yur sure?"
"Sartin sure."
"By the livin catamount!" exclaimed Rube, in a serious tone, "we can't
stan this no longer. What's to be done, Billee? Think, boy!"
"We must make a burst for it," replied Garey; "it's our only chance."
"Tur no use," said Rube, with a doubtful shake of the head. "The young
fellur mout git clur; but for you 'n me thur's not the shaddy o' a
chance. They'd catch up wi' the ole mar in the flappin' o' a beaver's
tail, an yur hoss ain't none o' the sooplest. Tur no use."
"I tell you it are, Rube," replied Garey impatiently. "You mount the
white hoss--he's fast enough--an let the mar slide; or you take mine, an
I'll back whitey. We mayent get clar altogether; but we'll string the
niggers out on the parairy, an take them one arter another. It's better
than stannin' hyar to be shot down like buffler in a penn. What do
_you_ think, capt'n?" added he, addressing himself to me.
Just then an idea had occurred to me. "Why not gallop to the cliff?" I
inquired, looking toward the mesa: "they can't surround us there? With
our backs to the rock, and our horses in front of us, we may defy the
rabble. We might easily reach it by a dash--"
"Scalp me! ef the young fellur ain't right," cried Rube, interrupting my
speech. "It's the very idee, plum centre!"
"It are!" echoed Garey--"it are! We hain't a second to lose; they'll be
round us again in a squ'll's jump. Look yonder!"
This conversation had occupied but a few seconds of time. It occurred
just after the five horsemen had the second time emptied their guns, and
galloped back to exchange them.
Before they could return to deliver a third fire, our determination was
taken, and we had hastily undone the fastenings of our horses, and were
ready to mount.
This we accomplished so quietly, that it was evident the enemy had not
perceived us, and therefore entertained no suspicion of our design;
hence the road towards the mesa was still perfectly open to us. In
another minute, however, the five riders would have been circling around
us, and that would have naturally altered our situation.
"Hurry, Rube!" cried Garey--"hurry, man, and let's be off!"
"Keep cool, Billee," rejoined Rube, who was adjusting the bridle of
Garey's horse. "Plenty o' time, I _tell ee_; they ain't a comin' yit.
He woo! ole gal!" he continued, addressing himself to the mare--"ho-woo!
we're a-gwine to leave you ahint a bit, but I reck'n yu'll turn up agin.
They won't eat ye, anyhow; so don't be skeeart about thet, ole gal!
Now, Billee, I'm ready."
It was time, for the riders were again spurring forward to surround us.
Without waiting to observe further, we all three leaped simultaneously
on horseback; and, plying the spur deeply, shot off in a direct line of
the mesa.
A glance behind showed us the guerrilleros--the whole band coming in
full tilt after us, while their cries sounded in our ears. To our
satisfaction, we saw we had gained ground upon them--our sudden start
having taken them by surprise, and produced in their ranks a momentary
hesitation. We had no fear of being able to reach the mesa before they
could overtake us.
For my own part, I could soon have ridden out of sight altogether; so
could Garey, mounted on the white steed, that, with only a raw-hide
halter, was behaving splendidly. It was Garey's own horse, a strong but
slow brute, that delayed us; he was ridden by Rube; and it was well the
chase was not to be a long one, else our pursuers would have easily
overhauled _him_. Garey and I kept by his side.
"Don't be afeerd, Rube!" shouted Garey, in a tone of encouragement; "we
ain't a-goin to leave you--we'll stick thegither!"
"Yes," added I, in the excitement of the moment, "we live or die
together!"
"Hooray, young fellur!" cried Rube, in a burst of wild
gratitude--"hooray for you! I know yur the stuff, an won't leave me
ahint, though I gin you the slip oncest--when you mistuk me for the
grizzly. He, he, hoo! But then, you ses twur no use o' my stickin' to
you--ne'er a bit o' good. Wagh! them niggurs ur gettin' nigher!"
We were riding directly for the middle of the mesa, whose cliff, like a
vast wall, rose up from the level plain. We headed for its central
part, as though we expected some gate to open in the rock and give us
shelter!
Shouts of astonishment could be heard mingling with the hoof-strokes.
Some of the expressions we heard distinctly. "Whither go they?"
"_Vaya_! do they intend to ride up the cliff?" "_Carrambo! bueno! bueno!
van en la trampa_!" (Good! they are going into the trap!)
Shouts of exultation followed, as they saw us thus voluntarily placing
ourselves in a position from which retreat appeared impossible.
They had been apprehensive, on our first galloping off, that we might be
mounted on swift horses, and meditated escaping by speed; but on
discovering that this was not our intention, cries of joyful import were
heard; and as we approached the cliff, we saw them deploying behind us,
with the design of hemming us in. It was just the movement we had
anticipated, and the very thing we desired them to do.
We galloped up close to the rocky wall before drawing bridle; then,
suddenly flinging ourselves to the ground, we placed our backs to the
cliff, drew our horses in front of us, and holding the bridles in our
teeth, raised our rifles towards the foe.
Once more the three shining tubes were levelled, promising certain death
to the first who should approach within range.