Circumstances were arising that would be likely to interrupt the
Comandante and his captain in the execution of their design. At least
so it might have been supposed. In less than twenty-four hours after
the conversation described, a rumour of Indian incursions was carried to
the town, and spread through every house in the valley. The rumour said
that a band of "Indios bravos,"--whether Apache, Yuta, or Comanche, was
not stated,--had made their appearance near the settlement, in full
_war-paint and costume_!
This of course denoted hostile intentions, and an attack might be
expected in some part of the settlement. The first rumour was followed
by one still more substantial,--that the Indians had attacked some
shepherds in the upper plain, not far from the town itself. The
shepherds had escaped, but their dogs had been killed, and a large
number of sheep driven off to the mountain fastnesses of the marauders!
This time the report was more definite. The Indians were Yutas, and
belonged to a band of that tribe that had been hunting to the east of
the Pecos, and who had no doubt resolved upon this plundering expedition
before returning to their _home_, near the heads of the Del Norte. The
shepherds had seen them distinctly, and knew the _Yuta paint_.
That the Indians were Yutas was probable enough. The same tribe had
lately made a foray upon the settlements in the fine valley of Taos.
They had heard of the prosperous condition of San Ildefonso, and hence
their hostile visit. Besides, both Apaches and Comanches were _en paz_
with the settlement, and had for some years confined themselves to
ravaging the provinces of Coahuila and Chihuahua. No provocation had
been given to these tribes to recommence hostilities, nor had they given
any signs of such an intention.
Upon the night of the same day in which the sheep were carried off, a
more important robbery was committed. That took place in the settlement
itself. A large number of cattle were driven off from a grazing-farm
near the lower end of the valley. The Indians had been seen in the act,
but the frightened vaqueros were but too glad to escape, and shut
themselves up in the buildings of the farm.
No murders had as yet been committed, but that was because no resistance
had been made to the spoliations. Nor had any houses been yet attacked.
Perhaps the Indians were only a small band; but there was no knowing
how soon their numbers might be increased, and greater outrages
attempted.
The people of the valley, as well as those in the town, were now in a
state of excitement. Consternation prevailed everywhere. Those who
lived in the scattered ranchos forsook their homes during the night, and
betook themselves to the town and the larger haciendas for shelter.
These last were shut up as soon as darkness approached, and regular
sentries posted upon their azoteas, who kept watch until morning. The
terror of the inhabitants was great,--the greater because for a long
period they had lived on good terms with the Indios bravos, and a visit
from them was novel as unexpected.
No wonder that they were alarmed. They had cause for it. They well
knew that in these hostile incursions the savage enemy acts with the
utmost barbarity,--murdering the men, and sparing only the younger
women, whom they carry off to a cruel captivity. They well knew this,
for at that very date there were thousands of their countrywomen in the
hands of the wild Indians, lost to their families and friends for ever!
No wonder that there was fear and trembling.
The Comandante seemed particularly on the alert. At the head of his
troops he scoured the neighbouring plains, and made incursions towards
the spurs of the mountains. At night his patrols were in constant
motion up and down the valley. The people were admonished to keep
within their houses, and barricade their doors in case of attack. All
admired the zeal and activity of their military protectors.
The Comandante won golden opinions daily. This was the first real
opportunity he had had of showing them his "pluck," for there had been
no alarm of Indians since he arrived. In the time of his predecessor
several had taken place, and on these occasions it was remembered that
the troops, instead of going abroad to search for the "barbaros," shut
themselves up in the garrison till the latter were gone clear out of the
valley, after having carried off all the cattle they could collect!
What a contrast in the new Comandante! What a brave officer was Colonel
Vizcarra!
This excitement continued for several days. As yet no murders had been
committed, nor any women, carried off; and as the Indians had only
appeared in the night, the probability was that they were in but small
force,--some weak band of robbers. Had it been otherwise, they would
have long since boldly shown themselves by daylight, and carried on
their depredations on a much larger scale.
During all this time the mother and sister of the cibolero lived in
their lone rancho without any protection, and were, perhaps, less in
dread of the Indians than any other family in the whole valley. This
was to be attributed to several causes. First, their training, which
had taught them to make light of dangers that terrified their less
courageous neighbours. Secondly, their poor hut was not likely to tempt
the cupidity of Indian robbers, whose design was evidently plunder.
There were too many well-stocked ranchos a little farther up the valley.
The Indians would not be likely to molest them.
But there was still a better reason for this feeling, of confidence on
their part, and that was somewhat of a family secret. Carlos, having
traded with all the neighbouring tribes, was known to the Indians, and
was on terms of friendship with nearly every one of their chiefs. One
cause of this friendship was, that Carlos was known to them as an
_American_. Such was their feeling in regard to Americans that, at this
time, and for a long period after, both the trappers and traders of that
nation could pass through the whole Apache and Comanche range in the
smallest parties without molestation, while large caravans of Mexicans
would be attacked and robbed! It was only long after that these tribes
assumed a fierce hostility against the Saxon whites; and this was
brought about by several acts of barbarism committed by parties of the
whites themselves.
In his dealings with the Indios bravos, then, the cibolero had not
forgotten his little rancho at home; and he had always counselled his
mother and sister not to fear the Indians in his absence, assuring them
that these would not molest them.
The only tribe with which Carlos was not on friendly terms was the
Jicarilla, a small and miserable band that lived among the mountains
north-east of Santa Fe. They were a branch of the Apaches, but lived
apart, and had little in common with the great freebooters of the
south--the _Mezcaleros_ and _Wolf-eaters_.
For these reasons, then, the little Rosita and her mother, though not
entirely without apprehension, were yet less frightened by the current
rumours of the time than their neighbours.
Every now and then Don Juan rode over to the rancho, and advised them to
come and stay at his house--a large strong building well defended by
himself and his numerous peons. But the mother of Rosita only laughed
at the fears of Don Juan; and Rosita herself, from motives of delicacy,
of course refused to accede to his proposal.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the third night from the time the Indians had been first heard
of. The mother and daughter had laid aside their spindle and loom, and
were about to retire to their primitive couches on the earthen floor,
when Cibolo was seen to spring from his petate, and rush towards the
door, growling fiercely.
His growl increased to a bark--so earnest, that it was evident some one
was outside. The door was shut and barred; but the old woman, without
even inquiring who was there, pulled out the bar, and opened the door.
She had scarcely shown herself when the wild whoop of Indians rang in
her ears, and a blow from a heavy club prostrated her upon the
threshold. Spite the terrible onset of the dog, several savages, in all
the horrid glare of paint and feathers, rushed into the house yelling
fearfully, and brandishing their weapons; and in less than five minutes'
time, the young girl, screaming with terror, was borne in their arms to
the outside of the rancho, and there tied upon the back of a mule.
The few articles which the Indians deemed of any value were carried away
with them; and the savages, after setting fire to the rancho, made off
in haste.
Rosita saw the blaze of the rancho as she sat tied upon the mule. She
had seen her mother stretched upon the door-step, and was in fact
dragged over her apparently lifeless form; and the roof was now in
flames!
"My poor mother!" she muttered in her agony; "O God! O God! what will
become of my poor mother?"
Almost simultaneously with this attack, or a little after it, the
Indians appeared before the house of the ranchero, Don Juan; but, after
yelling around it and firing several arrows over the azotea and against
the door, they retired.
Don Juan was apprehensive for his friends at the rancho. As soon as the
Indians had gone away from about his own premises, he stole out; and,
trusting to the darkness, made his way in that direction.
He had not gone far before the blaze of the building came under his
eyes, causing the blood to rush cold through his veins.
He did not stop. He was afoot, but he was armed, and he dashed madly
forward, resolved to defend Rosita, or die!
In a few minutes he stood before the door of the rancho; and there, to
his horror, lay the still senseless form of the mother, her wild and
ghastly features illuminated by the blaze from the roof. The fire had
not yet reached her, though in a few moments more she would have been
buried in the flames!
Don Juan drew her forth into the garden, and then rushed frantically
around calling on Rosita.
But there was no reply. The crackling blaze--the sighing of the night
wind--the hooting of the cliff owl, and the howling of the _coyote_,
alone answered his anxious calls.
After remaining until all hope had vanished, he turned towards the
prostrate body, and knelt down to examine it. To his surprise there was
still life, and, after her lips had been touched with water, the old
woman showed symptoms of recovery. She had only been stunned by the
heavy blow.
Don Juan at length lifted her in his arms, and taking the well-known
path returned with his burden, and with a heavy heart, to his own house.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Next morning the news of the affair was carried through all the
settlement, adding to the terror of the inhabitants. The Comandante
with a large troop galloped conspicuously through the town; and after
much loud talk and empty demonstrations, went off on the trail which the
Indians were supposed to have taken.
Long before night the troopers returned with their usual report, "_los
barbaros no pudimos alcanzar_." (We could not overtake the savages.)
They said that they had followed the trail to the Pecos, where the
Indians had crossed, and that the savages had continued on towards the
Llano Estacado.
This piece of news gave some relief, for it was conjectured, if the
marauders had gone in that direction, their plundering would end. They
had probably proceeded to join the rest of their tribe, known to be
somewhere in that quarter.