Carlos _was_ in the cave, and at that very moment. Ever since the
affair at the Presidio he had made it his dwelling, his "lair," and for
reasons very similar to those which the mulatto had imparted to his
companion. It afforded him a safe retreat, and at a convenient distance
from his friends in the valley. Out of the ravine he could pass with
safety by night, returning before day. During the day he slept. He had
little fear of being tracked thither by the troopers; but even had they
done so, his cave entrance commanded a full view of the ravine to its
mouth at nearly a mile's distance, and any one approaching from that
direction could be perceived long before they were near. If a force of
troopers should enter by the mouth of the ravine, though both sides were
inaccessible cliffs, the cibolero had his way of escape. As already
stated, a narrow pass, steep and difficult, led from the upper end of
the gully to the plain above. Steep and difficult as it was, it could
be scaled by the black horse; and, once on the wide plain of the Llano
Estacado, Carlos could laugh at his soldier-pursuers.
The only time his enemies could have reached him would be during his
hours of sleep, or after darkness had fallen. But Carlos was not afraid
even then. He went to sleep with as much unconcern as if he had been
surrounded by a body-guard! This is explained by a knowledge of the
fact that he _had_ his guard--a faithful guard--the dog Cibolo; for
although Cibolo had received some lance-thrusts in his last terrible
encounter, he had escaped without any fatal wound. He was still by the
side of his master. While the latter slept the sagacious animal sat
upon the ledge, and watched the ravine below. The sight of a soldier's
uniform would have raised the hair along Cibolo's back and drawn from
him the warning growl. Even in the darkness no one could have got
within several hundred yards of the cave without attracting the notice
of the dog, who would have given his master time to get off from the
most rapid pursuers.
The cave was a large one, large enough to hold both men and horses.
Water, pure crystal water, dripped from the rocks near its inner end,
and lay collected in a tank, that from its round bowl-like shape seemed
to have been fashioned by the hand of man. But it was not so. Nature
had formed this bowl and filled it with choicest water. Such a
formation is by no means uncommon in that region. Caves containing
similar tanks exist in the Waco and Guadalupe Mountains lying still
farther to the south.
It was just the spot for a hiding-place--a refuge for either robber,
outlaw, or other fugitive; and circumstanced as Carlos was it was the
very dwelling for him. He had long known of its existence, and shared
that knowledge only with hunters like himself and the wild Indians. No
settlers of the valley ever ventured up that dark and dismal ravine.
In his lair Carlos had ample time for reflection, and bitter often were
his reflections. He had information of all that passed. Antonio
managed that. Nightly did he meet Antonio at a point on the Pecos, and
receive from him the "novedades" of the settlement. The cunning mulatto
had guessed correctly. Had Antonio brought his news direct to the cave,
he might have been followed, and the hiding-place of Carlos have been
thus discovered. To prevent that the cibolero nightly went forth to
meet him.
Antonio, in collecting the news of the settlement, found in the young
girl Josefa an able adjutant. Through her he learnt that Catalina de
Cruces was kept under lock and key--that Roblado had only been
wounded, and would recover--that new officers went out with the
scouting-parties--and that his master's head had risen in price. The
shallow artifice of the spies around the rancho had long been known to
Carlos. Shallow as it was, it greatly annoyed him, as by these he was
prevented from visiting his mother and sister. Through Antonio,
however, he kept up almost daily communication with them. He might have
been apprehensive in regard to his sister after what had occurred, but
the villain Vizcarra was an invalid, and Carlos rightly judged why
Rosita was permitted to go unmolested. He had little fear for her--at
least for a time--and ere that time expired he should bear her away, far
out of the reach of such danger.
It was for that opportunity he was now waiting. With, all the vigilance
of his foes, he had no fear but that he could _steal_ his own mother and
sister almost at any time. But another was to be the companion of their
flight--another dear as they, and far more closely guarded!
For her only did he risk life daily--for her only did he sit hour after
hour in that lone cave brooding over plans, and forming schemes of
desperate peril.
Kept under lock and key--closely watched from morn to night, and night
till morning--how was she to be rescued from such a situation? This was
the problem upon which his mind now dwelt.
She had given him the assurance of her willingness to go. Oh! why had
he not proposed instant flight? Why did he neglect that golden moment?
Why should either have thought of delay? That delay had been fatal--
might retard their purpose for months, for years--perhaps for ever!
But little cared Carlos for the anger of his enemies--little for the
contempt in which he was held throughout the settlement--she alone was
his care--his constant solicitude. His waking hours were all given to
that one thought--how he would rescue, not himself, but his mistress.
No wonder he looked anxiously for the night--no wonder he rode with
impatient eagerness towards that lone rendezvous on the Pecos.
Night had come again; and, leading his horse down the slope in front of
the cave, he mounted and rode off toward the mouth of the canon. The
dog Cibolo trotted in advance of him.