"Yes, I have had coffee," replied Pilar, calmly. "Benito has brought me that, and many dulces."
"Dios!" shouted Doña Brígida. "I will tie him to a tree and beat him till he is as green as my reata—"
"Give me the bread!—quick, quick, for the love of Heaven! It is two days since he has been, and I have nothing left, not even a drop of coffee."
"Then live on the memory of thy dulces and coffee! The bread and water go back with me. Three days from now I bring them again. Meanwhile, thou canst enjoy the fangs at thy vitals."
Pilar breathed freely again, but she cried sharply, "Ay, no! no!"
"Ay, yes! yes!"
Doña Brígida stalked up and down, while Pilar twisted her hands together, and Sturges mused upon his future wife's talent for dramatic invention. Suddenly Doña Brígida shouted: "Tomaso, come here! The spring! A horse has watered here to-day—two horses! I see the little hoof-mark and the big." She ran back to the cave, dragging Tomaso with her. "Quick! It is well I brought my reata. Ten minutes, and I shall have the truth. Pull there; I pull here."
"The game is up," whispered Sturges to Pilar. "And I have another plan." He took a pistol from his hip-pocket and handed it to her. "You have a cool head," he said; "now is the time to use it. As soon as this stone gives way do you point that pistol at the vaquero's head, and don't let your hand tremble or your eye falter as you value your liberty. I'll take care of her."
Pilar nodded. Sturges threw himself against the rock and pushed with all his strength. In a moment it gave, and the long brown talons of Pilar's mother darted in to clasp the curve of the stone. Sturges was tempted to cut them off; but he was a sportsman, and liked fair play. The stone gave again, and this time he encountered two small malignant eyes. Doña Brígida dropped her hands and screamed; but, before she could alter her plans, Sturges gave a final push and rushed out, closely followed by Pilar.
It was his intention to throw the woman and bind her, hand and foot; but he had no mean opponent. Doña Brígida's surprise had not paralyzed her. She could not prevent his exit, for she went back with the stone, but she had sprung to the open before he reached it himself, and was striking at him furiously with her reata. One glance satisfied Sturges that Pilar had covered the vaquero, and he devoted the next few moments to dodging the reata. Finally, a well-directed blow knocked it from her hand, and then he flung himself upon her, intending to bear her to the ground. But she stood like a rock, and closed with him, and they reeled about the little plateau in the hard embrace of two fighting grizzlies. There could be no doubt about the issue, for Sturges was young and wiry and muscular; but Doña Brígida had the strength of three women, and, moreover, was not above employing methods which he could not with dignity resort to and could with difficulty parry. She bit at him. She clawed at his back and shoulders. She got hold of his hair. And she was so nimble that he could not trip her. She even roared in his ears, and once it seemed to him that her bony shoulder was cutting through his garments and skin. But after a struggle of some twenty minutes, little by little her embrace relaxed; she ceased to roar, even to hiss, her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. Finally, her knees trembled violently, she gave a hard sob, and her arms fell to her sides. Sturges dragged her promptly into the cave and laid her down.