The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

  Carlos spoke the truth, when he gave his dog the credit of having savedhis life, or, at all events, his liberty, which in the end amounted tothe same thing. But for the sagacious brute having preceded him, hewould certainly have entered the cave, and as certainly would he havebeen captured.

  His cunning adversaries had taken every step necessary for securing him.They had hidden their horses far back in the cavern. They had placedthemselves behind the jutting rocks--one on each side of the entrance--so that the moment he should have shown himself they were prepared tospring upon him like a brace of tigers.

  Their dogs, too, were there to aid them--crouched by the side of theirmasters, and along with them, ready to seize upon the unsuspectingvictim.

  It was a well-planned ambuscade, and so far well-executed. The secrecywith which the hunters had left the settlement, and made theirroundabout journey--their adroit approach to the ravine--their patientbehaviour in watching till Carlos had ridden out of the way, and theirthen taking possession of the cave, were all admirably executedmanoeuvres.

  How was it possible the cibolero could be aware of, or even suspect,their presence? They did not for a moment fancy that he knew of theirreturn from their hunting expedition. It was quite dark the nightbefore, when they had passed up the valley to the mission; and afterunpacking the produce of their hunt, which had been done withoutobservation, the Padre Joaquin had enjoined on them not to showthemselves in the town before he should send them word. But few of themission servants, then, knew of their return; and for the rest, no oneknew anything who would or could have communicated it to Carlos.Therefore, reasoned they, he could have no suspicion of their being inthe cave. As to their trail up the ravine, he would not notice it onhis return. He would only strike it where it led over the shingle, and,of course, there it would not be visible even in daylight.

  Never was a trap better set. He would walk into the caveunsuspectingly, and perhaps leading his horse. They would spring uponhim--dogs and all--and pinion him before he could draw either pistol orknife! There seemed no chance for him.

  For all that there _was_ a chance, as the yellow hunter well knew; andit was that which caused him at intervals to mutter--

  "Dam! fear dog give us trouble, boy Pepe."

  To this the zambo's only response was the bitter shibboleth--"_Carajo_!"showing that both were uneasy about the dog. Long before this time bothhad heard of the fame of Cibolo, though neither had a full knowledge ofthe perfect training to which that sagacious animal had attained.

  They reflected that, should the dog enter the cave first, they would bediscovered by him, and warning given to his master. Should he enter itbefore the latter had got near, the chances were that their ambuscadewould prove a failure. On the other hand, should the dog remain in therear, all would go right. Even should he approach at the same time withhis master, so that the latter might get near without being alarmed,there would still be a chance of their rushing out upon and shootingeither horse or rider.

  Thus reasoned these two treacherous ruffians in the interim of thecibolero's absence.

  They had not yet seated themselves in the positions they designed totake by the entrance of the cave. They could occupy these at a moment'swarning. They stood under the shadow of the rocks, keeping watch downthe ravine. They knew they might be a long time on their vigil, andthey made themselves as comfortable as possible by consuming the meagrestock of provisions which the cibolero had left in the cave. Themulatto, to keep out the cold, had thrown the newly appropriated blanketupon his shoulders. A gourd of chingarito, which they had taken care tobring with them, enabled them to pass the time cheerfully enough. Theonly drawback upon their mirth was the thought of the dog Cibolo, whichevery now and again intruded itself upon the mind of the yellow hunter,as well as upon that of his darker confrere.

  Their vigil was shorter than either had anticipated. They fancied thattheir intended victim might make a long ride of it--perhaps to theborders of the settlement--that he might have business that would detainhim, and that it might be near morning before he would get back.

  In the midst of those conjectures, and while it still wanted some hoursof midnight, the mulatto, whose eyes were bent down the ravine, was seensuddenly to start, and grasp his companion by the sleeve.

  "Look!--yonder, boy Pepe! Yonder come guero!"

  The speaker pointed to a form approaching from the plain, and nearingthe narrow part of the ravine. It was scarce visible by the uncertainlight, and just possible to distinguish it as the form of a man onhorseback.

  "Carr-rr-a-ai! it is--carr-r-ai!" replied the zambo, after peering forsome time through the darkness.

  "Keep close in, boy Pepe! hwish! Pull back dog! take place--lie close--I watch outside--hwish!"

  The zambo took his station according to the plan they had agreed upon;while the yellow hunter, bloodhound in hand, remained by the entrance ofthe cave. In a few moments the latter was seen to start up with agesture of alarm.

  "Dam!" he exclaimed. "Dam! told you so--till lost--ready, boy Pepe--dogon our trail!"

  "Carajo, Man'l! what's to be done?" eagerly inquired the zambo.

  "In--in--let come in--kill 'im in cave--in!"

  Both rushed inside and stood waiting. They had hastily formed thedesign of seizing the cibolero's dog the moment he should enter thecave, and strangling him if possible.

  In this design they were disappointed; for the animal, on reaching themouth of the cave, refused to enter, but stopped upon the ledge outsideand commenced barking loudly.

  The mule uttered a cry of disappointment, and, dropping the bloodhound,rushed forward, knife in hand, to attack Cibolo. At the same moment thehound sprang forward, and the two dogs became engaged in a desperateconflict. This would have terminated to the disadvantage of the hound,but, in another moment, all four--mulatto, zambo, hound, and wolf--wereassailing Cibolo both with knives and teeth. The latter, seeing himselfthus overmatched, and having already received several bad cuts,prudently retreated among the rocks.

  He was not followed, as the ruffians had still some hopes that thecibolero, not suspecting what it could mean, might yet advance towardsthe cave. But these hopes were of short duration. Next moment throughthe dim light they perceived the horseman wheel round, and gallop offtowards the mouth of the ravine!

  Exclamations of disappointment, profane ejaculations, and wild oaths,echoed for some minutes through the vaulted cavern.

  The excited ruffians at length became more cool, and, groping about inthe darkness, got hold of their horses, and led them out upon the ledge.Here they stopped to give farther vent to their chagrin, and todeliberate on their future course.

  To attempt immediate pursuit would not avail them, as they well know thecibolero would be many a mile out of their reach before they coulddescend to the plain.

  For a long time they continued to give utterance to expressions ofchagrin, mingled with anathemas upon the head of the dog, Cibolo. Atlength becoming tired of this, they once more set their heads tobusiness.

  The zambo was of opinion it would be useless to go farther that night--they had no chance of coming up with the cibolero before morning--indaylight they would more easily make out his trail.

  "Boy Pepe, fool!" was the mulatto's reply to these observations. "Trackby daylight--be seen--spoil all, fool Pepe!"

  "Then what way, brother Man'l?"

  "Dam! forgot bloodhound? Trail by night fast as ride--soon overtakeguero."

  "But, brother Man'l, he's not going to stop short of ten leagues fromhere! We can't come up with him to-night, can we?"

  "Fool again, boy Pepe! Stop within ten miles--stop because won't thinkof bloodhound--won't think can trail 'im--stop, sure. Dam! that dogplayed devil--thought he would--dam!"

  "Malraya! _he_ won't trouble us any more."

  "Why think that, boy Pepe?"

  "Why, brother Man'l! because I had my blade into him. He'll not limpmuch farther, I war
rant."

  "Dam! wish could think so--if could think so, give double onza. But fordog have guero now. But for dog, get guero before sun up. Stop soon--don't suspect us yet--don't suspect hound--stop, I say. By mighty God--sure!"

  "How, brother Man'l? you think he'll not go far off?"

  "Sure of it. Guero not ride far--nowhere to go--soon trail 'im--find'im asleep--crawl on 'im but for dog--crawl on 'im sure."

  "If you think so, then I don't believe you need trouble yourself aboutthe dog. If he lives twenty minutes after the stab I gave him, he's atough brute, that's all. You find the guero, I promise you'll find nodog with him."

  "Hope so, boy Pepe--try anyhow. Come!" Saying this, the yellow hunterstraddled his horse, and followed by the zambo and the dogs commencedmoving down the rocky channel of the ravine.