It was not yet daybreak when the party left the house, but they had not
started too early. Carlos knew that they could follow the road so far
as the lancers had gone, in the darkness; and it would be light enough
by the time they had got to the point where these had turned back.
Five miles below the house of Don Juan the road forked--one, leading
southward, was that by which Carlos had returned the evening before; the
other, or left fork, led nearly in a direct line towards the Pecos,
where there was a ford. The left fork had been that taken by the
troopers, as their horse-tracks showed.
It was now day. They could have followed the trail at a gallop, as it
was a much-travelled and well-known path. But the eye of the cibolero
was not bent upon this plain trail, but upon the ground on each side of
it, and this double scrutiny caused him to ride more slowly.
On both sides were cattle-tracks. These were, no doubt, made by the
cattle stolen from Don Juan--in all numbering about fifty. The cibolero
said they must have passed over the ground two days before. That would
correspond with the time when they had been taken.
The trackers soon passed the limits of the valley, and entered the plain
through which runs the Pecos. They were about approaching that stream
in a direct line, and were still two miles from its banks, when the dog
Cibolo, who had been trotting in advance of the party, suddenly turned
to the left, and ran on in that direction. The keen eye of Carlos
detected a new trail upon which the dog was running, and which parted
from the track of the troopers. It ran in a direction due north.
What appeared singular both to Carlos and Don Juan was the fact of
Cibolo having taken this new route, as it was not marked by a road or
path of any kind, but merely by the footprints of some animals that had
lately passed over it!
_Had Cibolo gone that way before_?
Carlos dismounted to examine the tracks.
"Four horses and one mule!" he said, speaking to Don Juan. "Two of the
horses shod on the fore feet only; the other two, with the mule,
barefoot. All of them mounted--the mule led--perhaps with a pack.
"_No_!" he added, after a little further examination, "it's not a
pack-mule!"
It scarce cost the cibolero five minutes to arrive at these conclusions.
How he did so was a mystery to most of his companions,--perhaps to all,
except the half-blood, Antonio. And yet he was right in every
particular.
He continued to scrutinise the new trail for some moments longer.
"The time corresponds," said he, still addressing Don Juan. "They
passed yesterday morning before the dew was dry. You are sure it was
not midnight when they left your house?"
"Quite sure," replied the ranchero. "It was still only midnight when I
returned with your mother from the rancho. I am quite sure of that."
"One more question, Don Juan: How many Indians, think you, were in the
party that made their appearance at your house--few or many?"
"Not many I think. Two or three only could be heard yelling at once;
but the trees prevented us from seeing them. I fancy, from their traces
left, that the band was a very small one. It might be the same that
burned the rancho. They could have arrived at my house afterwards.
There was time enough."
"I have reason to believe they _were_ the same," said Carlos, still
bending over the hoof-prints, "and _this may be their trail_."
"Think you so?" inquired Don Juan.
"I do.--See--there! Is this not strange?"
The speaker pointed to the dog, who, meanwhile, had returned to the
spot, and stood whimpering, and showing an evident desire to proceed by
the trace newly discovered!
"Very strange," replied Don Juan. "He must have travelled it before!"
"Perhaps so," said Carlos. "But it will not spoil by an hour's keeping.
Let us first see where these valiant troopers have been to. I want to
know that before I leave this main path. Let us on, and briskly!"
All spurred their animals into a gentle gallop, the cibolero leading as
before. As before, also, his eyes swept the ground on both sides in
search of any trail that might diverge from that on which they
travelled.
Now and then cross paths appeared, but these were old. No horses had
passed recently upon them, and he did not slacken his pace to examine
them.
After a twenty minutes' gallop the party halted upon the bank of the
Pecos, at the ford. It was plain that the troopers had also halted
there, and turned back without crossing! But cattle had crossed two
days before--so said the cibolero--and mounted drivers. The tracks of
both were visible in the mud. Carlos rode through the shallow water to
examine the other side. At a glance he saw that no troops had crossed,
but some forty or fifty head of cattle.
After a long and careful examination, not only of the muddy bank, but of
the plain above, he beckoned to Don Juan and the rest to ford the stream
and join him.
When Don Juan came up, the cibolero said to him, in a tone full of
intelligence--
"_Amigo_! you stand a fair chance to recover your cattle."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because their drivers, four in number, have been near this spot not
much over twenty-four hours ago. The animals, therefore, cannot be far
off."
"But how know you this?"
"Oh, that is plain enough," coolly responded the cibolero. "The men who
drove your beasts were mounted on the same horses that made yonder
trail." The speaker indicated the trail which he had halted to examine,
and continued,--"Very probably we'll find the herd among the spurs of
the ceja yonder."
As Carlos said this, he pointed to a number of ragged ridges that from
the brow of the Llano Estacado jutted out into the plain. They appeared
to be at the distance of some ten miles from the crossing.
"Shall we push on there?" asked Don Juan.
The cibolero did not give an immediate answer. He had evidently not
decided yet, and was debating in his own mind what course to pursue.
"Yes," he replied, at length, in a solemn and deliberate voice. "It is
better to be sure. With all my terrible suspicions, I may be wrong.
_She_ may be wrong. _The two trails may yet come together_."
The latter part of this was spoken in soliloquy, and, though it reached
the ears of Don Juan, he did not comprehend its meaning. He was about
to ask his companion for an explanation, when the latter, suddenly
collecting his energies, struck the spurs into his horse, and, calling
to them to follow, galloped off upon the cattle-track.
After a run of ten miles, which was made in less than an hour, the party
entered a large ravine or point of the plain that protruded, like a deep
bay, into the mountain-like side of the high steppe. As they entered
this, a singular spectacle came under their eyes. The ravine, near its
bottom, was covered with zopilotes, or black vultures. Hundreds of them
were perched upon the rocks, or wheeling overhead in the air; and
hundreds of others hopped about upon the plain, flapping their broad
wings as if in full enjoyment. The coyote, the larger wolf, and the
grizzly bear, were seen moving over the ground, or quarrelling with each
other, though they need not have quarrelled--the repast was plenteous
for all. Between forty and fifty carcases were strewed over the ground,
which Don Juan and his vaqueros as they drew near recognised as the
carcases of his own cattle.
"I told you so, Don Juan," said Carlos, in a voice now husky with
emotion; "but I did not expect this. What a deep-laid plan! They might
have strayed back! and that--oh! horrible villain! My mother was
right--_it is he! it is he_!"
"Who, Carlos! What mean you?" inquired Don Juan, wondering at these
strange and incongruous phrases.
"Ask me not now, Don Juan! Presently I shall tell you all--presently,
but not now; my brain's too hot--my heart is burning: presently--
presently. The mystery is past--I know all--I had suspicion from the
first--I saw him at the fiesta--I saw his bad ruffian gaze bent upon
her. Oh, despot! I'll tear your heart out! Come, Don Juan!--Antonio--
comrades!--After me on the trail! It's easily followed. _I know where
it will lead_--well I know.--On!"
And driving the spur into the flanks of his horse, the cibolero galloped
off in the direction of the crossing.
The wondering troop--Don Juan among the rest--set their animals in
motion, and galloped after.
There was no halt made at the ford. Carlos dashed his horse through the
water, and the rest imitated his example. There was no halt either on
arriving at the trace that led northward. The dog scampered along it,
yelping at intervals; and the troop kept close after his heels.
They had not followed it quite a mile when it suddenly turned at right
angles, and _took the direction of the town_!
Don Juan and the rest expressed surprise, but there was nothing in all
this to surprise the cibolero. _He_ was expecting that. The expression
on his face was not that of astonishment. It was far different--far
more terrible to behold!
His eyes were sunk in their sockets and gleaming with a lurid light, as
if fire was burning within them. His teeth were firmly set--his lips
white and tightly drawn, as if he was meditating, or had already made,
some desperate resolve. He scarce looked at the tracks, he needed their
guidance no longer. _He knew there he was going_!
The trail crossed a muddy arroyo. The dog sweltered through, and the
red clay adhered to his shaggy coat. It corresponded with that with
which he had been already besmeared!
Don Juan noticed the circumstance, and pointed it out.
"He has been here before!" said he.
"I know it," replied Carlos; "I know it all--all. There is no mystery
now. Patience, amigo! You shall know all, but now let me _think_. I
have no time for aught else."
The trail still led in the direction of the town. It did not re-enter
the valley, but passed over a sloping country to the upper plain, and
then ran nearly parallel with the bluffs.
"Master!" said Antonio, riding up by the side of Carlos, "these are not
the tracks of Indian horses, unless they have stolen them. Two of them
are _troop_ horses. I know the _berradura_ well. They are _officers'
horses_, too--I can tell that from the shoeing."
The cibolero showed no signs of being astonished by this information,
nor made he reply. He seemed engrossed with his thoughts.
Antonio, thinking he had not been heard or understood, repeated what he
had said.
"Good Antonio!" said the cibolero, turning his eyes on his follower, "do
you think me blind or stupid?"
This was not said angrily. Antonio understood its meaning, and fell
back among his companions.
On moved the trackers--now at a gallop, now more slowly, for their
animals were by this time somewhat jaded. On they moved, still keeping
the trail, and still heading straight for the town!
At length they reached a point where a road from the upper plain led by
a zigzag path to the valley below. It was the same by which Carlos had
ascended to perform his great feat on the day of the fiesta. At the top
of the descent Carlos ordered the party to halt, and with Don Juan rode
forward to the edge of the projecting cliff--at the very spot where he
had exhibited his skill--the cliff of _Nina Perdida_.
Both drew up when near the edge. They commanded a full view of the
valley and the town.
"Do you see that building?" inquired the cibolero, pointing to the
detached pile which lay between them and the town.
"The Presidio?"
"The Presidio."
"Yes--what of it?"
"_She is there_!"