The White Chief: A Legend of Northern Mexico Page 53
CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.
Carlos _was_ in the cave, and at that very moment. Ever since theaffair at the Presidio he had made it his dwelling, his "lair," and forreasons very similar to those which the mulatto had imparted to hiscompanion. It afforded him a safe retreat, and at a convenient distancefrom his friends in the valley. Out of the ravine he could pass withsafety by night, returning before day. During the day he slept. He hadlittle fear of being tracked thither by the troopers; but even had theydone so, his cave entrance commanded a full view of the ravine to itsmouth at nearly a mile's distance, and any one approaching from thatdirection could be perceived long before they were near. If a force oftroopers should enter by the mouth of the ravine, though both sides wereinaccessible cliffs, the cibolero had his way of escape. As alreadystated, a narrow pass, steep and difficult, led from the upper end ofthe gully to the plain above. Steep and difficult as it was, it couldbe scaled by the black horse; and, once on the wide plain of the LlanoEstacado, Carlos could laugh at his soldier-pursuers.
The only time his enemies could have reached him would be during hishours of sleep, or after darkness had fallen. But Carlos was not afraideven then. He went to sleep with as much unconcern as if he had beensurrounded by a body-guard! This is explained by a knowledge of thefact that he _had_ his guard--a faithful guard--the dog Cibolo; foralthough Cibolo had received some lance-thrusts in his last terribleencounter, he had escaped without any fatal wound. He was still by theside of his master. While the latter slept the sagacious animal satupon the ledge, and watched the ravine below. The sight of a soldier'suniform would have raised the hair along Cibolo's back and drawn fromhim the warning growl. Even in the darkness no one could have gotwithin several hundred yards of the cave without attracting the noticeof the dog, who would have given his master time to get off from themost 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 seemedto have been fashioned by the hand of man. But it was not so. Naturehad formed this bowl and filled it with choicest water. Such aformation is by no means uncommon in that region. Caves containingsimilar tanks exist in the Waco and Guadalupe Mountains lying stillfarther 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 thevery dwelling for him. He had long known of its existence, and sharedthat knowledge only with hunters like himself and the wild Indians. Nosettlers of the valley ever ventured up that dark and dismal ravine.
In his lair Carlos had ample time for reflection, and bitter often werehis reflections. He had information of all that passed. Antoniomanaged that. Nightly did he meet Antonio at a point on the Pecos, andreceive from him the "novedades" of the settlement. The cunning mulattohad guessed correctly. Had Antonio brought his news direct to the cave,he might have been followed, and the hiding-place of Carlos have beenthus discovered. To prevent that the cibolero nightly went forth tomeet him.
Antonio, in collecting the news of the settlement, found in the younggirl Josefa an able adjutant. Through her he learnt that Catalina deCruces was kept under lock and key--that Roblado had only beenwounded, and would recover--that new officers went out with thescouting-parties--and that his master's head had risen in price. Theshallow artifice of the spies around the rancho had long been known toCarlos. Shallow as it was, it greatly annoyed him, as by these he wasprevented from visiting his mother and sister. Through Antonio,however, he kept up almost daily communication with them. He might havebeen apprehensive in regard to his sister after what had occurred, butthe villain Vizcarra was an invalid, and Carlos rightly judged whyRosita was permitted to go unmolested. He had little fear for her--atleast for a time--and ere that time expired he should bear her away, farout of the reach of such danger.
It was for that opportunity he was now waiting. With, all the vigilanceof his foes, he had no fear but that he could _steal_ his own mother andsister almost at any time. But another was to be the companion of theirflight--another dear as they, and far more closely guarded!
For her only did he risk life daily--for her only did he sit hour afterhour in that lone cave brooding over plans, and forming schemes ofdesperate peril.
Kept under lock and key--closely watched from morn to night, and nighttill morning--how was she to be rescued from such a situation? This wasthe problem upon which his mind now dwelt.
She had given him the assurance of her willingness to go. Oh! why hadhe 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 thecontempt in which he was held throughout the settlement--she alone washis care--his constant solicitude. His waking hours were all given tothat one thought--how he would rescue, not himself, but his mistress.
No wonder he looked anxiously for the night--no wonder he rode withimpatient eagerness towards that lone rendezvous on the Pecos.
Night had come again; and, leading his horse down the slope in front ofthe cave, he mounted and rode off toward the mouth of the canon. Thedog Cibolo trotted in advance of him.