He was counting with anxiety the minutes that passed, when at that
moment there echoed upon his ear the hoof-strokes of another horse,
going at full gallop.
It was a horseman following the same route, and running the same risk as
himself. He was mounted upon a strong, swift animal, that appeared to
pass over the ground like a bird upon the wing.
In an instant the horseman came up, and drawing vigorously on the
bridle, halted alongside.
"What are you about?" cried the new-comer, speaking in hurried phrase.
"Do you not hear the alarm-bell? Don't you know that the flood is
coming down?"
"Yes; but my horse has given out. I am waiting till he recovers his
wind."
The stranger cast a glance towards the bay-brown of Don Rafael, and then
threw himself out of his saddle. "Take hold of this," he said, flinging
his bridle to the officer. "Let me examine your horse."
Raising the saddle-flap, he placed his hand underneath, to feel the
pulsations of the lungs.
"All right yet," he exclaimed, after a pause, apparently satisfied that
the animal would recover.
Then stooping down, he took up a large stone, and began to rub it
vigorously over the ribs and along the belly of the panting steed.
Don Rafael could not help gazing with curious interest on a man who,
thus careless of his own life, was occupying himself so generously about
the safety of another--that other, too, a perfect stranger!
The man was costumed as an _arriero_ (muleteer). A species of
tight-fitting blouse, of coarse greyish-coloured wool, striped black,
covered the upper part of his body, over which, in front, hung a short
leathern apron. Wide calzoneros of linen flapped about his legs. His
feet were encased in buskins of brown goat-skin, while over his face
fell the shadow of a broad-brimmed hat of coarse felt cloth.
He was a man of less than medium size; but with a sweet expression of
features, from which his sunburnt complexion did not detract. Even at
that terrible moment his countenance appeared calm and serene!
Don Rafael did not attempt to interrupt his proceedings, but stood
regarding him with a feeling of deep gratitude.
For some moments the muleteer continued to use the stone. Then stopping
the process, he placed his hand once more to feel the pulsation. This
time he appeared less satisfied than before.
"He will founder," said he, "if something be not done to prevent it. He
must have more breath through his nostrils. There is but one way to
save him. Assist me to try it. We must haste, for the bell is tolling
with double violence to give warning that the waters are near."
As he was speaking, he drew a cord from the pocket of his leathern
apron; and, forming a running noose at one end of it, he drew it tightly
around the muzzle of the horse, just above the nostrils.
"Now," said he, handing the cord to Don Rafael. "First cover the
horse's eyes with your handkerchief; and then hold the cord with all
your might."
While Don Rafael hastened to obey the directions, the muleteer took a
knife from his belt, and with a quick cut divided the transparent
partition between the nostrils of the animal. The blood gushed forth in
copious jets; and the horse, notwithstanding the efforts of Don Rafael
to hold him to the ground, reared up on his hind legs, and struck
forward with his hoofs. A hollow gurgling noise came forth from his
nostrils as the air rushed in through the opening that had been made.
"Now!" exclaimed the muleteer, "you need no longer fear for his wind.
Your horse can run as far as his legs will carry him. You will be saved
if you are to be saved."
"Your name," cried Don Rafael, stretching out his hand to the muleteer;
"your name, that I may always keep it in remembrance."
"Valerio Trujano, a poor _arriero_; not very fortunate in his affairs,
but who consoles himself with the belief that he has done his duty, and
leaves the rest to God. Our lives are now in His hands. Let us pray
that He may preserve them from the awful danger that is before us."
Repeating these words with an air of solemnity, the muleteer took off
his hat, displaying to view a mass of black curling hair. Then kneeling
upon the sand, he raised his eyes to heaven, and in a voice of prayer
pronounced the words:--
"_De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine! Domine, exaudi vocem meam_!"
While the muleteer was engaged in his devotion, the dragoon tightened
his girths for the last struggle; and both at the same time springing
into their saddles, resumed the gallop that had been so unfortunately
interrupted. The damp, chill wind which preceded the coming of the
waters bore loudly to their ears the warning notes of the bell--mingled
with the sinister sounds that betokened the approach of the inundation.