But for a half-score men lying dead along the earth, their warm blood welling from wounds where bullets have passed through their bodies, the gory1 drops here and there like dew bedecking the blades of grass, or in fuller stream settling down into the sand—but for this, the too real evidence of death, one who entered the camp of Uraga as the Mexican Colonel is riding out of it might fancy himself spectator of a pantomime during the scene of transformation2. In the stage spectacle, not quicker or more contrasting could be the change.
The gaily-apparelled lancers, with their plumes3, pennons, and tassels4, representing the sprites and sylphides of the pantomime, are succeeded by men who look real life. Big bearded men, habited in homespun; some wearing buckskin, others blanket coats; all carrying guns, bowie-knives, and pistols; the first smoking at the muzzles5, as freshly fired, the last held in hand, ready to be discharged as soon as somebody worth shooting at shows himself.
Entering the open ground ahead of the others, Hamersley and Wilder glance around in search of this somebody, both thinking of the same. They see stretched along the sward ten soldiers dead as herrings on a string, but among them no one wearing the uniform of an officer—certainly not him they are after.
Their first glance is unrewarded, but their second gives all they seek. Behind a tent, and partially6 screened by the trees, three men are in the act of mounting three horses. One is already in the saddle and moving away, the other two have just set foot in the stirrup. The roan mounted is unknown to the pursuers; but his animal is recognised by them. It is Hamersley’s own horse! Of the other two but one is identified, and him only by Hamersley. He sees Gil Uraga.
A cry from the Kentuckian expresses disappointment. For on the instant after sighting the Mexican officers the latter have leaped into their saddles and gone off at a full gallop7. A rifle shet might yet reach them; but the guns of both Kentuckian and Texan are empty. Their revolvers are loaded to no purpose. The retreating horsemen are beyond pistol range!
Sure of this, they do not think of firing. And afoot, as all the Rangers8 are—having left the horses behind to steal forward—they feel helpless to pursue for the present. While hesitating, a circumstance occurs giving Hamersley a hope. The man who has mounted his horse finds a difficulty in managing him. As a Mexican he sits the saddle to perfection, but cannot make the animal go the way he wants.
From behind the horse has heard neighing, which he knows to come from the steeds of his own race, and, knowing this, has resolved to rub noses with them.
In vain Galvez kicks against his ribs9, beats him about the head, and makes frantic10 efforts to urge him on. He but rears in the opposite direction, backing so far as to bring his rider within reach of the revolver held in the hands of Hamersley. Its crack rings clear—not needing to be repeated or the cylinder11 turned. At the first explosion the soldier is seen to spring from the saddle, dropping dead without kick or cry, while the steed, disembarrassed, sheers round and comes trotting12 towards the place whence the shot proceeded.
In a moment more its real master has hold of the bridle-rein, his shout of joy answered by a whimper of recognition.
Seeing how matters stand, the Rangers hasten back to get possession of their horses; others make for those of the fallen lancers, that now in affright are rearing and straining at the end of their trail-ropes in a vain endeavour to break loose.
For neither can Hamersley wait. It will take time, which his impatience—his burning thirst for vengeance13—cannot brook14. He is thinking of his slain15 comrades, whose bones lie unburied on the sands of the Canadian; also of the outrage16 so near being perpetrated, so opportunely17 interrupted.
But one thought stays him—Adela. Where is she? Is she safe? He turns towards the marquee late guarded by Galvez. A very different individual is now seen at its entrance. Walt Wilder, with bowie-knife bared, its blade cutting the cords that kept the tent closed. In an instant they are severed18, the flap flies open, and two female forms rush forth19. In another instant one of them is lying along Hamersley’s breast, the other in the embrace of Wilder. Kisses and words are exchanged. Only a few of the latter, till Hamersley, withdrawing himself from the arms that softly entwine him, tells of his intention to part.
“For what purpose?” is the interrogatory, asked in tremulous accents, and with eyes that speak painful surprise.
“To redress20 my wrongs and yours, Adela,” is the response firmly spoken.
“Santissima!” she exclaims, seeing her lover prepare to spring into the saddle. “Francisco! Stay with me. Do not again seek danger. The wretch21 is not worthy22 of your vengeance.”
“’Tis not vengeance, but justice. ’Tis my duty to chastise23 this crime—the greatest on earth. Something whispers me ’tis a destiny, and I shall succeed. Dearest Adela, do not stay me. There is no danger. I shall be back soon, bringing Uraga’s sword, perhaps himself, along with me.”
“Thar’s odds24 again ye, Frank,” interposes Wilder. “Two to one. If I foller afoot I mayn’t be up in time. An’ the boys that’s gone arter thar critters, they’ll be too late.”
“Never mind the odds! I’ll make it up with the five shots still in my revolver. See, dearest, your brother is coming this way. Go meet and tell him I shall soon return with a prisoner to be exchanged for him. Another kiss! Adios! hasta luego!”
Tearing himself from arms so reluctant to release him, he bounds upon the back of his horse and spurs off, soon disappearing among the trees.
Scarce is he out of sight when another quadruped is seen galloping25 after—not a horse, but a hybrid26.
Walt Wilder has espied27 the saddled mule28 hitched29 up behind the tent—that intended for Conchita. It is now ridden by the ex-Ranger, who, prodding30 it with the point of his bowie, puts it to its best speed.
And soon after go other horsemen—the Texans who have recovered their steeds, with some who have caught those of the troopers, rapidly bridled31 and mounted them bare-back.
They who stay behind become spectators of a scene strange and tender. Two male prisoners unexpectedly rescued—snatched, as it were, from the jaws32 of death—two female captives alike saved from dishonour33. A brother embracing his sister, whose noble affection but the moment before prompted her to share with him the first sooner than submit to the last.
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1
gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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2
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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3
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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4
tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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5
muzzles
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| 枪口( muzzle的名词复数 )； （防止动物咬人的）口套； （四足动物的）鼻口部； （狗）等凸出的鼻子和口 | |
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6
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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7
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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8
rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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9
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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10
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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11
cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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12
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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13
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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14
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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15
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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16
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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17
opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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18
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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19
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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20
redress
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| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
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21
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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22
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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23
chastise
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| vt.责骂，严惩 | |
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24
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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25
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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26
hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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27
espied
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| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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29
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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30
prodding
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| v.刺，戳( prod的现在分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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31
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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32
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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33
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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