Garcia was dead. Vizcarra was not, though, when taken up from where he
had fallen, he looked like one who had not long to live, and behaved
like one who was afraid to die. His face was covered with blood, and
his cheek showed the scar of a shot. He was alive however,--moaning and
mumbling. Fine talking was out of the question, for several of his
teeth had been carried away by the bullet.
His wound was a mere face wound. There was not the slightest danger;
but the "medico" of the place, a young practitioner, was not
sufficiently master of his art to give him that assurance, and for some
hours Vizcarra remained in anything but blissful ignorance of his fate.
The garrison doctor had died but a short time before, and his place was
not yet supplied.
A scene of excitement for the rest of that day was the Presidio--not
less so the town. The whole settlement was roused by the astounding
news, which spread like a prairie fire throughout the length and breadth
of the valley.
It travelled in two different shapes. One was, that the settlement was
surrounded by "los barbaros," headed by Carlos the cibolero; that they
must be in great numbers, since they had made an open attack upon the
military stronghold itself; but that they had been beaten off by the
valiant soldiers after a desperate conflict, in which many were killed
on both sides; that the officers were all killed, including the
Comandante; and that another attack might be looked for that night,
which would most likely be directed against the town! This was the
first shape of the "novedades."
Another rumour had it that the "Indios mansos" had revolted; that they
were headed by Carlos the cibolero; that they had made an unsuccessful
attempt upon the Presidio, in which, as before, the valiant soldiers had
repulsed them with great loss on both sides, including the Comandante
and his officers: that this was but the first outbreak of a great
conspiracy, which extended to all the Tagnos of the settlement, and that
no doubt the attack would be renewed that night!
To those who reflected, both forms of the rumour were incomprehensible.
Why should "Indios bravos" attack the Presidio before proceeding against
the more defenceless town as well as the several rich haciendas? And
how could Carlos the cibolero be their leader? Why should he of all
men,--he who had just suffered at the hands of the savages? It was
well-known through the settlement that it was the cibolero's sister who
had been carried off. The idea of an Indian incursion, with him at the
head of it, seemed too improbable.
Then, again, as to the conspiracy and revolt. Why the tame Indians were
seen labouring quietly in the fields, and those belonging to the mission
were working at their usual occupations! News, too, had come down from
the mines--no symptoms of conspiracy had been observed there! A revolt
of the Tagnos, with the cibolero at their head, would, of the two
rumours, have been the more likely to be true; for it was well-known to
all that these were far from content with their lot--but at present
there was no appearance of such a thing around. There were they all at
their ordinary employments. Who, then, were the revolters? Both
rumours, therefore, were highly improbable.
Half the town-people were soon gathered around the Presidio, and after
stories of all shapes had been carried back and forward, the definite
facts at length became known.
These, however, were as mysterious and puzzling as the rumours. For
what reason could the cibolero have attacked the officers of the
garrison? Who were the Indians that accompanied him? Were they
"bravos" or "mansos"?--savages or rebels?
The most remarkable thing was, that the soldiers themselves who had
taken part in the imaginary "fight" could not answer these questions.
Some said this, and some that. Many had heard the conversation between
Carlos and the officers; but that portion of the affair, though
perfectly natural in itself when taken in connexion with after
circumstances, only rendered the whole more complicated and mysterious!
The soldiers could give no explanation; and the people returned home, to
canvass and discuss the affair among themselves. Various versions were
in vogue. Some believed that the cibolero had come with the _bona fide_
desire to obtain help against the Indians--that those who accompanied
him were only a few Tagnos whom he had collected to aid in the pursuit--
and that the Comandante, having first promised to aid him, had
afterwards refused, and that this had led to the strange conduct of the
cibolero!
There was another hypothesis that gained more credit than this. It was
that Captain Roblado was the man whom the cibolero had desired to make a
victim; that he was guided against him by motives of jealousy; for the
conduct of Carlos on the day of the fiesta was well-known, and had been
much ridiculed--that, in failing to reach Roblado, he had quarrelled
with the Comandante, and so forth.
Improbable as was this conjecture, it had many supporters, in the
absence of the true motive for the conduct of the cibolero. There were
but four men within the Presidio to whom this was known, and only three
outside of it. By the general public it was not even suspected.
In one thing all agreed--in condemning Carlos the cibolero. The garotta
was too good for him; and when taken, they could all promise him ample
punishment. The very ingratitude of the act was magnified. It was but
the day before that these same officers had gone forth with their
valiant soldiers to do him a service! The man must have been mad! His
mother had no doubt bewitched him.
To have killed Lieutenant Garcia!--he who was such a favourite!
_Carrambo_!
This was true. Garcia was liked by the people of the settlement--
perhaps not so much from the possession of any peculiar virtues, but in
contrast with his superiors. He was an affable, harmless sort of
person, and had won general esteem.
That night the cibolero had not one friend in San Ildefonso. Nay, we
speak wrongly. He had _one_. There was one heart beating for him as
fondly as ever--Catalina's--but she, too, was ignorant of the motives
which had led to his mysterious conduct.
Whatever these motives were, she knew they could not be otherwise than
just. What to her were the calumnies--the gibes--that were heaped upon
him? What to her if he had taken the life of a fellow-creature? He had
not done so without good cause--without some fearful provocation. She
believed that in her soul. She knew his noble nature too well to think
otherwise. He was the lord of her heart, and could do no wrong!
Sorrowful, heart-breaking news was it to her. It boded long
separation--perhaps for ever! He dared no more visit the town--not even
the settlement! He would be driven to the wild plains--hunted like the
wolf or the savage bison--perhaps taken and slain! Bitter were her
reflections. When should she see him again? Maybe, never!