The Apaches dashed up with a noise resembling thunder.
The black outlines could already be distinguished through the darkness.
Lanzi took the bridle between his teeth, seized a pistol in either hand, and when he judged the moment propitious, he dug his spurs into his horse, dashed out in front of the Redskins, and crossed their front diagonally.
When within range, he fired his pistols into the group, gave a yell of defiance, and continued his flight with redoubled speed.
What the half-breed expected, really happened. His shots had told, and two Apaches fell with their chests pierced through and through. The Indians, furious at this audacious attack, which they were far from expecting from a single man, uttered a cry of fury, and dashed after him.
This was exactly what Lanzi wanted.
"There," he said on seeing the success of his scheme; "they are altogether now, and there is no fear of their scattering; the others are saved. As for me—bah, who knows?"
Doña Carmela and the hunter only escaped from the Apaches to fall in with the jaguars. We have seen how they were saved, thanks to Tranquil.