It was a thrilling scene, and I almost wished I was one among them.
Our mission was accomplished, and my companion intimated that we should descend the mountain and join the war-party. As we descended, the Camanche preceded me, pushing his way through the bushes with a rapidity only acquired by long practice.
Suddenly the thought flashed across my mind that now, if ever, was my golden opportunity. What would there be to prevent my braining the Indian in his tracks and then escape? It was a savage and brutal alternative, to be sure; but it was my only chance, and I might wait years in vain before another opportunity would present itself. As I revolved the scheme in my mind, my hand went instinctively to my belt and grasped the tomahawk. I trembled with excitement, and as if to keep pace with my thoughts, my steps quickened, and a few strides brought me close upon my victim. My quick and labored breathing must have attracted his attention, as, suddenly wheeling, he confronted me, and evidently read the murderous intention in my eye, he sprang lightly to one side, and unsheathing his knife, stood as if expecting an attack. Simultaneously with this action, I drew my tomahawk and rushed upon him, aiming a blow at his head. He adroitly parried it with his arm, but in so doing received a severe wound in the shoulder. Darting at me, he clutched my arm, and twining his limbs about my person, made a desperate endeavor to bring me to the ground. The tomahawk was of no use now; I allowed it to fall from my grasp, and with the disengaged hand clutched my knife.
My antagonist's superior strength began to tell. I felt powerless, and his eyes gleamed with fiendish triumph. He raised the shining blade preparatory to sheathing it in my body, when I suddenly felt the ground giving way beneath my feet, and in less time than it takes to relate it, we were rolling over a precipice with a sheer fall of about ten feet. The savage clung to me with a death-like grip, and encircling my neck with his arm, grasped my throat with his teeth. Those were fearful moments. I struggled to disengage my hand from his vice-like grip. The blood gurgled from my mouth, my tongue protruded, and I was gasping for breath in the last throes of strangulation, when we came to the ground with a terrific shock.
The savage gave one yell that curdled my blood, and instantly relaxed his hold, falling limp and lifeless by my side. I was not many minutes in disengaging myself from my antagonist, and in doing so I was made aware of the cause of the sudden turn of events that had saved me from a horrible death. It would appear, that during the struggle and fall, the hand that grasped my knife was encircled around the body of my foe, and when we struck the ground, my body being uppermost, the knife had been driven to the hilt into his back by the force of the concussion.
Everything now depended on the celerity of my movements. The remainder of the party would no doubt wonder at our long absence, and despatch runners to seek the missing "signal" makers. It would require but a glance at the prostrate form of their comrade to enable them to realize the true state of affairs, and to make instant preparation to follow, overtake the fugitive, and mete out to him the reward of his perfidy. Hastily possessing myself of what few arms I needed, and taking the bag of parched corn that was suspended from the girdle of the fallen savage, I made my way to where the ponies were cached, and springing on my animal, urged him forward at the top of his speed, leading the Indian's pony by the lariat attached to his bridle.
My plan was to strike out over the prairie in a southerly direction, and by traveling without cessation, endeavor to put a wide gap between pursuer and pursued, and thus be enabled to reach in safety some of the Mexican frontier towns. I was certain that this plan was feasible, from the conversation I had heard from time to time among the warriors of our band. Indeed, it was proposed by Hissodecha, to raid on some one of the pueblas, if they were unsuccessful in their attack on the Arrapahoes, as by this means they would avoid the ignominy of returning to the lodges of their people, without being able to display the fruits of a successful foray; such as scalps, horses, captives, etc.
By riding my pony until he dropped from exhaustion and then availing myself of the fresh lead horse, I could travel an immense distance without drawing rein. It was growing dark when I started, and I had not traveled far before the night closed in, and I had to trust to the instinct of my horse to carry me safely over the prairie. My course was shaped by a certain star that would keep me on the right trail if I held it steadily in view. About midnight I halted at a small stream to water the horses, and hastily prepare for myself a small portion of the parched corn, which was done by mixing a handful in a gourd filled with water. This corn is invaluable to those who wish to traverse long distances, without being hampered with unnecessary luggage. With a sack or gourd of this article, containing about an half bushel, one can travel fifteen or twenty days without other sustenance.
On we sped, the animals straining every muscle and nerve, their flanks heaving and flecked with foam. No sound broke upon the stillness of the night, save the rapid hoof-strokes of the mustangs, and occasionally the yelp of a coyote that was startled in his midnight prowlings by our sudden and rapid advance. Directly in my coarse loomed up a huge mound, and further on the dark forms of a range of low hills were outlined upon the horizon. I concluded to push on and gain their shelter. Once within their protecting shadow, I could pursue my course more leisurely, and without the fear of immediate detection. My grand anxiety was to hide or blind the trail, and by this means baffle the sleuth hounds, who were by this time in full pursuit.
I had not proceeded far when the pony came to a sudden halt, which almost unseated me. I tried to urge him forward by word and action, but it was of no avail; he refused to move, and stood trembling like an aspen. Leaning forward and peering over his neck, I discovered, to my dismay, a wide chasm, which fully explained why the mustang had refused to be urged forward. The banks on either side were quite level, and no indentations or ruggedness marked the line of separation. One could ride up to its very brink without being aware of a break in the prairie level. I had thus come upon one of those barancas, the result of volcanic action, that are so frequently met with in this country. There was no alternative but to ride along its edge until I came to a point where its sides were depressed to the level of the plain. This, of course, involved a long detour, and a consequent loss of valuable time. My only consolation was in the reflection that my enemies, in following the trail, would be compelled to resort to the same tactics.