Next morning the town was full of "novedades." At first it was supposed
there had been an attack of Indians repelled as usual by the troops.
What valiant protectors the people had!
After a while it was rumoured that Carlos the murderer had been
captured, and that was the cause of the firing,--that Captain Roblado
was killed in the affair. Presently Carlos was not taken, but he had
been chased and came very near being taken! Roblado had engaged him
singly, hand to hand, and had wounded him, but in the darkness he had
got off by diving down the river. In the encounter the outlaw had shot
the captain through the arm, which prevented the latter from making him
a prisoner.
This rumour came direct from the Presidio. It was partly true. The
wounding of Carlos by Roblado was an addition to the truth, intended to
give a little _eclat_ to the latter, for it became known afterwards that
the cibolero had escaped without even a scratch.
People wondered why the outlaw should have ventured to approach the
town, knowing as he did that there was a price upon his head. Some very
powerful motive must have drawn him thither. The motive soon became
known,--the whole story leaked out; and then, indeed, did scandal enjoy
a feast. Catalina had been for some time the acknowledged belle of the
place, and, what with envious women and jealous men, she was now treated
with slight show of charity. The very blackest construction was put
upon her "compromisa." It was worse even than a _mesalliance_. The
"society" were horrified at her conduct in stooping to intimacy with a
"lepero;" while even the lepero class, itself fanatically religious,
condemned her for her association with "un asesino," but, still worse, a
"heretico!"
The excitement produced by this new affair was great indeed,--a perfect
panic. The cibolero's head rose in value, like the funds. The
magistrates and principal men assembled in the Casa de Cabildo. A new
proclamation was drawn out. A larger sum was offered for the capture of
Carlos, and the document was rendered still stronger by a declaration of
severe punishment to all who should give him food or protection. If
captured beneath the roof of any citizen who had voluntarily sheltered
him, the latter was to suffer full confiscation of his property, besides
such further punishment as might be fixed upon.
The Church was not silent. The padres promised excommunication and the
wrath of Heaven against those who would stay justice from the heretic
murderer!
These were terrible terms for the outlaw! Fortunately for him, he knew
how to live without a roof over his head. He could maintain existence
where his enemies would have starved, and where they were unable to
follow him,--on the wide desert plain, or in the rocky ravines of the
mountains. Had he depended for food or shelter on his fellow-citizens
of the settlement he would soon have met with betrayal and denouncement.
But the cibolero was as independent of such a necessity as the wild
savage of the prairies. He could sleep on the grassy sward or the naked
rock, he could draw sustenance even from the arid surface of the Llano
Estacado, and there he could bid defiance to a whole army of pursuers.
At the council Don Ambrosio was not present. Grief and rage kept him
within doors. A stormy scene had been enacted between him and his
daughter. Henceforth she was to be strictly guarded--to be kept a
prisoner in her father's house--to be taught repentance by the exercise
of penance.
To describe the feelings of Roblado and the Comandante would be
impossible. These gentlemen were well-nigh at their wits' end with
mortification. Disappointment, humiliation, physical and moral pain,
had worked them into a frenzy of rage; and they were engaged together
during all the day in plotting schemes and plans for the capture of
their outlawed enemy.
Roblado was not less earnest than the Comandante in the success of their
endeavours.
Carlos had now given both of them good cause to hate him, and both hated
him from the bottom of their hearts.
What vexed Roblado most was, that he was no longer able to take the
field--nor was he likely to be for several weeks. His wound, though not
dangerous, would oblige him to sling his arm for some time, and to
manage a horse would be out of the question. The strategic designs of
the Comandante and himself would have to be carried out by those who
felt far less interest in the capture of the outlaw than they did.
Indeed, but for the arrival of a brace of lieutenants, sent from
division head-quarters at Santa Fe, the garrison would have been without
a commissioned officer fit for duty. These new-comers--Lieutenants
Yafiez and Ortiga--were neither of them the men to catch the cibolero.
They were brave enough--Ortiga in particular--but both were late
arrivals from Spain, and knew nothing whatever of border warfare.
The soldiers were desirous of hunting the outlaw down, and acted with
sufficient zeal. The stimulus of a large reward, which was promised to
them, rendered them eager of effecting his capture; and they went forth
on each fresh scout with alacrity. But they were not likely to attack
the cibolero unless a goodly number of them were together. No one or
two of them--including the celebrated Sergeant Gomez--would venture
within range of his rifle, much less go near enough to lay hands upon
him.
The actual experience of his prowess by some of them, and the
exaggerated reports of it known to others, had made such an impression
upon the whole troop, that the cibolero could have put a considerable
body of them to flight only by showing himself! But in addition to the
skill, strength, and daring which he had in reality exhibited--in
addition to the exaggeration of those qualities by the fancy--the
soldiers as well as people had become possessed with a strange belief--
that was, that the cibolero was under the protection of his mother--
under the protection of the "diablo"--in other words, that he was
_bewitched_, and therefore invincible! Some asserted that he was
impervious to shot, spear, or sabre. Those who had fired their carbines
at him while on the bridge fully believed this. They were ready to
swear--each one of them--that they had hit the cibolero, and must have
killed him had he not been under supernatural protection!
Wonderful stories now circulated among the soldiers and throughout the
settlement. The cibolero was seen everywhere, and always mounted on his
coal-black horse, who shared his supernatural fame. He had been seen
riding along the top of the cliffs at full gallop, and so close to their
edge that he might have blown the stump of his cigar into the valley
below! Others had met him in the night on lonely walks amid the
chapparal, and according to them his face and hands had appeared red and
luminous as coals of fire! He had been seen on the high plains by the
hateros--on the cliff of "La Nina"--in many parts of the valley; but no
one had ventured near enough to exchange words with him. Every one had
fled or shunned him. It was even asserted that he had been seen
crossing the little bridge that led out of Don Ambrosio's garden, and
thus brought down a fresh shower of scandal on the devoted head of
Catalina. The scandal-mongers, however, were sadly disappointed on
hearing that this bridge no longer existed, but had been removed by Don
Ambrosio on the day following the discovery of his daughter's
misconduct!
In no part of the world is superstition stronger than among the ignorant
populace of the settlements of New Mexico. In fact, it may be regarded
as forming part of their religion. The missionary padres, in grafting
the religion of Rome upon the sun-worship of Quetzalcoatl, admitted for
their own purposes a goodly string of superstitions. It would be
strange if their people did not believe in others, however absurd.
Witchcraft, therefore, and all like things, were among the New Mexicans
as much matters of belief as the Deity himself.
It is not then to be wondered at that Carlos the cibolero became
associated with the devil. His feat of horsemanship and hair-breadth
escapes from his enemies were, to say the least, something wonderful and
romantic, even when viewed in a natural sense. But the populace of San
Ildefonso no longer regarded them in this light. With them his skill in
the "coleo de toros," in "running the cock,"--his feat of horsemanship
on the cliff--his singular escapes from carbine and lance, were no
longer due to himself, but to the devil. The "diablo" was at the bottom
of all!
If the outlaw appeared so often during the next few days to those who
did not wish to see him, it was somewhat strange that those who were
desirous of a sight and an interview could get neither one nor the
other. The lieutenants, Yafiez and Ortiga, with their following of
troopers, were on the scout and look-out from morning till night, and
from one day's end to the other. The spies that were thickly-set in all
parts where there was a probability he might appear, could see nothing
of Carlos! To-day he was reported here, to-morrow there; but on tracing
these reports to their sources, it usually turned out that some ranchero
with a black horse had been taken for him; and thus the troopers were
led from place to place, and misled by false reports, until both horses
and men were nearly worn out in the hopeless pursuit. This, however,
had become the sole duty on which the soldiers were employed--as the
Comandante had no idea of giving up the chase so long as there was a
trooper left to take the trail.
One place was closely watched both by day and by night. It was watched
by soldiers disguised, and also by spies employed for the purpose. This
was the rancho of the cibolero himself. The disguised soldiers and
spies were placed around it, in such positions that they could see every
movement that took place outside the walls without being themselves
seen. These positions they held during the day, taking others at night;
and the surveillance was thus continual, by these secret sentries
relieving one another. Should the cibolero appear, it was not the duty
of the spies to attack him. They were only to communicate with a
troop--kept in readiness not far off--that thus insured a sufficient
force for the object.
The mother and sister of the cibolero had returned to live in the
rancho. The peons had re-roofed and repaired it--an easy task, as the
walls had not been injured by the five. It was now as comfortable a
dwelling as ever.
The mother and sister were not molested--in fact, they were supposed to
know nothing of the fact that eyes were continually upon them. But
there was a design in this toleration. They were to be narrowly watched
in their movements. They were never to leave the rancho without being
closely followed, and the circumstance of their going out reported to
the leader of the ambushed troop at the moment of its occurrence. These
orders were of the strictest kind, and their disobedience threatened
with severe punishment.
The reasons for all this were quite simple. Both Vizcarra and Roblado
believed, or suspected, that Carlos might leave the settlement
altogether--why should he not?--and take both mother and sister along
with him. Indeed, why should he not? The place could be no more a home
to him, and he would easily find another beyond the Great Plains. No
time could ever release him from the ban that hung over him. He could
never pay the forfeit of his life--but by that life. It was, therefore,
perfectly natural in the two officers to suspect him of the intention of
moving elsewhere.
But, reasoned they, so long as we hold the mother and sister as
hostages, he will not leave them. He will still continue to lurk around
the settlement, and, if not now, some time shall the fox be caught and
destroyed.
So reasoned the Comandante and his captain, and hence the strictness of
their orders about guarding the rancho. Its inmates were really
prisoners, though--as Vizcarra and Roblado supposed--they were ignorant
of the fact.
Notwithstanding all their ingenious plans--notwithstanding all their
spies, and scouts, and soldiers--notwithstanding their promises of
reward and threats of punishment--day followed day, and still the outlaw
remained at large.