Part 36 (1/2)
”The man--the Mexican? How did he look?--what like?” I demanded anxiously.
”Like?” repeated the hunter. ”Why, Cap'n, I 'ud call him as ugly a skunk as yer kin skeer up any whar--'ceptin' it mout be among the Digger Injuns; but yer kin see for yurself--he's clost by.”
I leaped from my horse, and followed Lincoln through the bushes. Twenty paces brought us to the object of our search, upon the border of a small glade. The body lay upon its back, where it had been flung by the rearing mustang. The moon was s.h.i.+ning full upon the face. I stooped down to examine it. A single glance was sufficient. I had never seen the features before. They were coa.r.s.e and swart, and the long black locks were matted and woolly. He was a zambo; and, from the half-military equipments that clung around his body, I saw that he had been a guerillero. Lincoln was right.
”Wal, Cap'n,” said he, after I had concluded my examination of the corpse, ”ain't he a picter?”
”You think he was waiting for us?”
”For us or some other game--that's sartin.”
”There's a road branches off here to Medellin,” said Raoul, coming up.
”It could not have been for us: they had no knowledge of our intention to come out.”
”Possibly enough, Captain,” remarked Clayley in a whisper to me. ”That villain would naturally expect us to return here. He will have learned all that has pa.s.sed: Narcisso's escape--our visits. You know he would watch night and day to trap either of us.”
”Oh, heavens!” I exclaimed, as the memory of this man came over me; ”why did I not bring more men? Clayley, we must go on now. Slowly, Raoul--slowly, and with caution--do you hear.”
The Frenchman struck into the path that led to the rancho, and rode silently forward. We followed in single file, Lincoln keeping a look-out some paces in the rear.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS.
We emerged from the forest and entered the fields. All silent. No sign or sound of a suspicion. The house still standing and safe.
”The guerillero must have been waiting for someone whom he expected by the Medellin road. Ride on, Raoul!”
”Captain,” said the man in a whisper, and halting at the end of the _guardaraya_ (enclosure).
”Well?”
”Someone pa.s.sed out at the other end.”
”Some of the domestics, no doubt. You may ride on, and--never mind; I will take the advance myself.”
I brushed past, and kept up the guardaraya. In a few minutes we had reached the lower end of the pond, where we halted. Here we dismounted; and, leaving the men, Clayley and I stole cautiously forward. We could see no one, though everything about the house looked as usual.
”Are they abed, think you?” asked Clayley.
”No, it is too early--perhaps below, at supper.”
”Heaven send! we shall be most happy to join them. I am as hungry as a wolf.”
We approached the house. Still all silent.
”Where are the dogs?”
We entered.