"These people," the young man answered, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously, "are talking about driving us from the forest by virtue of some order."
"Halloh!" Red Cedar said, his eyes flashing as he cast a savage glance at the Mexicans. "The only law I recognise in the desert," he continued with a gesture of terrible energy as he struck his rifle barrel, "is this. Withdraw, strangers, if you do not wish blood to be shed between us. I am a peaceful man, wishing to do no one hurt; but I warn you that I will not allow myself to be kicked out without striking a blow."
"You will not be turned out," the judge remarked timidly; "on the contrary, you have seized on what belongs to other people."
"I won't listen to your arguments, which I do not understand," the squatter roughly exclaimed. "God gave the ground to man that he might labour on it. Every proprietor that does not fulfil this condition tacitly renounces his rights, and the earth then becomes the property of the man who tills it with the sweat of his brow; so go to the devil! Be off at full speed, if you do not wish harm to happen to you!"
"We will not suffer ourselves to be intimidated by your threats," the judge said, impelled by his anger, and forgetting for a moment his alarm; "we will do our duty, whatever may happen."
"Try it," Red Cedar said with a grin.
And he made a sign to his sons. The latter arranged themselves in a single line, and occupied the entire width of the path.
"In the name of the law," the judge said with energy, as he pointed out the old man, "alguaciles, seize that person."
But, as so frequently happens under similar circumstances, this order was more easy to give than to execute. Red Cedar and his sons did not appear at all disposed to let themselves be collared. We must, however, do the alguaciles the justice of stating that they did not hesitate for a moment. They plainly refused to carry out the order they had received.
"For the last time, will you be off?" the squatter shouted. "Let them have it."