And, followed by his comrades, he stepped into the thicket. The Mexicans, whose senses were dulled, had heard nothing at the first moment; but the noise which had struck the hunter's practised ear now reached them. It was the furious galloping of several horses, whose hoofs re-echoed on the ground with a noise resembling that of thunder. Suddenly, ferocious yells were heard, mingled with shots.
The five travellers, hidden behind trees, peered out, and soon noticed a man mounted on a horse lathered with foam, who was pursued by some thirty mounted Indians.
"To horse!" Valentine commanded in a low voice. "We cannot let this man be assassinated."
"Hem!" the general muttered, "We are playing a dangerous game, for they are numerous."
"Do you not see that the man is of our own colour?" Valentine went on.
"That is true," said Don Miguel. "Whatever happens, we must not allow him to be massacred in cold blood by those ferocious Indians."
In the meanwhile, the pursuers and pursued had come nearer the spot where the hunters were ambushed behind the trees. The man the Indians were so obstinately following drew himself up haughtily in his saddle, and, while galloping at full speed, turned from time to time to fire his rifle into the thick of his enemies. At each discharge a warrior fell; his comrades then uttered fearful yells, and answered by a shower of arrows and bullets. But the stranger shook his head disdainfully, and continued his career.
"Caspita!" the general said with admiration; "That is a brave fellow."
"On my soul," Don Pablo exclaimed, "it would be a pity to see him killed."
"We must save him," Don Miguel could not refrain from saying.