Part 34 (1/2)
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
DACOMA.
We all now hurried forward to the spring, and, dismounting, turned our horses' heads to the water, leaving them to drink at will. We had no fear of their running away.
Our own thirst required slaking as much as theirs; and, crowding into the branch, we poured the cold water down our throats in cupfuls. We felt as though we should never be surfeited; but another appet.i.te, equally strong, lured us away from the spring; and we ran over the camp-ground in search of the means to gratify it. We scattered the coyotes and white wolves with our shouts, and drove them with missiles from the ground.
We were about stooping to pick up the dust-covered morsels, when a strange exclamation from one of the hunters caused us to look hastily round.
”Malaray, camarados; mira el arco!”
The Mexican who uttered these words stood pointing to an object that lay upon the ground at his feet. We ran up to ascertain what it was.
”Caspita!” again e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the man. ”It is a white bow!”
”A white bow, by gos.h.!.+” echoed Garey.
”A white bow!” shouted several others, eyeing the object with looks of astonishment and alarm.
”That belonged to a big warrior, I'll sartify,” said Garey.
”Ay,” added another, ”an' one that'll ride back for it as soon as-- holies! look yonder! he's coming by--!”
Our eyes rolled over the prairie together, eastward, as the speaker pointed. An object was just visible low down on the horizon, like a moving blazing star. It was not that. At a glance we all knew what it was. It was a helmet, flas.h.i.+ng under the sunbeam, as it rose and fell to the measured gallop of a horse.
”To the willows, men! to the willows!” shouted Seguin. ”Drop the bow!
Leave it where it was. To your horses! Lead them! Crouch! crouch!”
We all ran to our horses, and, seizing the bridles, half-led, half-dragged them within the willow thicket. We leaped into our saddles, so as to be ready for any emergency, and sat peering through the leaves that screened us.
”Shall we fire as he comes up, captain?” asked one of the men.
”No.”
”We kin take him nicely, just as he stoops for the bow.”
”No; not for your lives!”
”What then, captain?”
”Let him take it, and go,” was Seguin's reply.
”Why, captain? what's that for?”
”Fools! do you not see that the whole tribe would be back upon our trail before midnight? Are you mad? Let him go. He may not notice our tracks, as our horses are not shod. If so, let him go as he came, I tell you.”
”But how, captain, if he squints yonder-away?”
Garey, as he said this, pointed to the rocks at the foot of the mountain.
”Sac-r-r-re! the Digger!” exclaimed Seguin, his countenance changing expression.