FOR LIFE.
"If we can put the fire between us and them," said Captain Jack, "we
shall get off."
For a moment it seemed as if they might do it. Already they saw the road
before them, the sand glowing red in the firelight. A few more
strides--Just then, a Spanish soldier came running round the corner of
the burning cane-patch, whirling his blazing torch. He saw them, and
raised a shout. "_Alerta! alerta!_ fugitives! after them! shoot down the
Mambi dogs!"
There was a rush to the corner where a score of horses stood tethered to
the fence. A dozen men leaped into the saddle and came thundering in
pursuit. Aquila gave one glance back; then stretched his long lean
neck, and settled into a gallop.
Before them the road lay straight for some distance, red here in the
crimson light, further on white under a late moon. On one side the woods
rose black and still, on the other lay open fields crossed here and
there by barbed wire fences. No living creature was to be seen on the
road. No sound was heard save the muffled beat of the horse's hoofs on
the sand, and behind, the shouts and cries of their pursuers. Were they
growing louder, those shouts? Were they gaining, or was the distance
between them widening? Rita turned her head once to look back. "I
wouldn't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Do you mind, Miss Montfort,
if I swing you round in front of me? Don't be alarmed, Aquila is all
right."
Before Rita could speak, he had dropped the reins on the horse's neck,
and lifted her bodily round to the peak of the saddle before him. "I'm
sorry!" he said, apologetically. "I fear it is very uncomfortable;
but--I can--a--manage better, don't you see?" But to himself he was
saying, "Lucky I got that done before the beggars began to shoot. Now
they may fire all they like. Stupid duffer I was, not to start right."
He had felt the girl's light figure quiver as he lifted her.
"Don't be frightened, Miss Montfort," he said again. "There isn't a
horse in the country that can touch Aquila when he is roused."
"I am not frightened," said Rita. "I am--excited, I suppose. It is like
riding on wind, isn't it?"
It was true that she felt no fear; neither did she realise the peril of
their position. It was one of the dreams come true, that was all. She
was riding with Delmonte, with the Star of Horsemen. He was saving her
life. They had ridden so before, often and often; only now--
_Pah!_ a short, sharp report was heard, and a little dust whiffed up on
the road beside them. _Pah! pah!_ another puff of dust, and splinters
flew from a tree just beyond them. Aquila twitched his ears and
stretched his long neck, and they felt the stride quicken under them.
The road rushed by; they were half-way to the turn.
"Would you like to hold the reins for a bit?" asked Delmonte. "It isn't
really necessary, but--thanks! that's very nice."
What was he doing? He had turned half round in the saddle; something
touched her hair--the butt of his carbine. "I _beg_ your pardon!" said
Captain Jack. "I am very clumsy, I fear."
_Crack!_ went the carbine. Rita's ears rang with the noise; she held the
reins mechanically, only half-conscious of herself. _Pah! pah!_ and
again _crack!_ The blue rifle-smoke was in her eyes and nostrils, the
Mauser bullets pattered like hail on the road; and still Aquila galloped
on, never turning his head, never slackening his mighty stride, and
still the road rushed by, and the turn by the hill grew nearer--nearer--
_Pah!_ Rita felt her companion wince. His left arm relaxed its hold and
dropped at his side. With his right hand he carefully replaced his
carbine in its sling.
"For life, Aquila!" he said softly, in Spanish; and once more Aquila
gathered his great limbs under him, and once more the terrible pace
quickened.
A stone? a hole in the road? who knows? In a moment they were all down,
horse and riders flung in a heap together. The horse struggled to his
knees, then fell again. He screamed, an agonising sound, that in Rita's
excited mind seemed to mingle with the smoke and the dust in a cloud of
horror. Every moment she expected to feel the iron hoofs crashing into
her, as the frenzied creature struggled to regain his footing.
Delmonte had sprung clear, and in an instant he was at Rita's side,
raising her. "You are hurt? no? good! keep behind me, please."
He went to the horse, and tried to lift him, bent to examine him, and
then shook his head. Aquila would not rise again; his leg was shattered.
Delmonte straightened himself and looked about him. If this had happened
a hundred, fifty yards back! but now the woods were gone, and on either
hand stretched a bare savannah, broken only by the hateful barbed wire
fences. He drew his revolver quietly. The healthy brown of his face had
gone gray; his eyes were like blue steel. He looked at Rita, and met her
eyes fixed on him in a mute anguish of entreaty.
"Have no fear!" he said. "It shall be as it would with my own sister. I
know these men; they shall not touch you alive."
He bent once more over the struggling beast, and even in his agony
Aquila knew his master, and turned his eyes lovingly toward him,
expecting help; and help came.
"Good-bye, lad!" The pistol cracked, and the tortured limbs sank into
quiet.
"Lie down behind him!" Delmonte commanded. "So! now, still."
He knelt behind the dead horse, facing the advancing Spaniards. The
revolver cracked again, and the foremost horseman dropped, shot through
the head. The troop was now close upon them; Rita could see the fierce
faces, and the gleam of their wolfish teeth. Delmonte fired again, and
another man dropped, but still the rest came on. There was no help,
then?
Delmonte looked at Rita; she closed her eyes, expecting death. The air
was full of cries and curses. But--what other sound was that? Not from
before, but behind them--round the turn of the road--some one was
singing! In all the hurry of her flying thoughts Rita steadied herself
to listen.
"For it's whoop-la! whoop!
Git along, my little dogies;
For Wyoming shall be your new home!--
"What in the Rockies is going on here, anyhow?"
Rita turned her head. A horseman had come around the bend, and checked
his horse, looking at the scene before him. A giant rider on a giant
horse. The moon shone on his brown uniform, his slouched felt hat, and
the carbine laid across his saddle-bow. Under the slouched hat looked
out a bronzed face, grim and bearded, lighted by eyes blue as Delmonte's
own.
Rita gave one glance. "Help!" she cried, "America, help!"
"America's the place!" said the horseman. He waved his hand to some one
behind him, then put his horse to the gallop. Next instant he was beside
them.
Delmonte started to his feet, revolver in hand. "U. S. A.?" he said.
"You're just in time, uncle. I'm glad to see you."
"Always like to be on time at a party," said the rough rider, levelling
his carbine. "My fellows are--in short, here they are!"
There was a scurry of hoofs, a shout, and thirty horsemen swept around
the curve and came racing up.
"What's up, Cap'n Jim?" cried one. "Have we lost the fun? Gringos, eh?
hooray!"
The Spaniards had checked their horses. Four of them lay dead in the
road, and several others were wounded. At sight of the mounted troop,
they stopped and held a hurried consultation, then turned their horses
and rode away.
The giant looked at Delmonte. "Want to follow?" he asked. "This is your
hand, comrade."
"I want a horse!" said Captain Jack. "Miss Montfort,"--he turned to
Rita, who had risen to her feet, and stood pale but quiet,--"these are
our own good country-men. If I leave you with them but a few moments--"
"Hold on!" said the big man. "What did you call the young lady?"
Delmonte stared. "This is Miss Montfort," he said, rather formally.
"Not Rita!" cried the giant. "Pike's Peak and Glory Gulch! Don't tell me
it's Rita!"
"Oh, yes! yes!" cried Rita, running forward with outstretched hands. "It
is--I am! and you--oh, I know, I know. You are Peggy's big brother. You
are Cousin Jim!"
"That's what they said when they christened me!" said Cousin Jim.