And now, unless I'm mightily mistaken, we'll fare forth upon our journey, as the knights of old would say. This is a good camp for defense, but not for siege. It lacks water. You just watch, Phil, and you'll see a wrinkle or two in plains work worth knowing."
The men began to hitch the horses to the wagons, but they were interrupted in the task by a horseman who rode forth from the Mexican column, carrying a white handkerchief on the point of a lance. He was joined by two Indian chiefs riding on either side of him. Phil instantly recognized all three. The white man was Pedro de Armijo, and the Indians were Black Panther and Santana.
"They want a big talk," said Bill Breakstone. "I fear the Greeks bearing gifts, and also a lot of other people who smile at you while they hold daggers behind their backs, but I suppose our side will hear what they have to say."
Middleton and Woodfall were already mounting to ride forth, and Middleton beckoned to Phil.
"Come, Phil," he said. "They are three, and we should be three, also. You can call yourself the secretary of the meeting if you like."
Phil sprang eagerly upon his horse, proud of the privilege and the honor, and rode forth with them. The Mexican and the two Comanches were coming on slowly and gravely. Four hundred yards behind them, Mexicans and Indians, all on horseback, were now gathered in a broad dark line, sitting motionless and watching. Their three envoys sat on their horses midway between the hostile forces, and the three Americans, meeting them there, stopped face to face. De Armijo looked at Middleton and smiled slightly, ironically. His bearing was proud, and was evidently meant to be disdainful. One would have thought that he was a victor, receiving an embassy about to sue for peace. Middleton returned his gaze steadfastly, but his face expressed nothing. He looked once at Phil, and the boy thought he saw something singular in the glance, as if he impinged somehow upon the mind of the Mexican, but in a moment the look of de Armijo passed.
"I have come, Captain Middleton," said the young Mexican, "to save bloodshed, if you are willing to listen to reason. You will observe what forces have come against you. We have here a numerous body of Mexican cavalry, the finest in the world, and we have also the flower of the Comanche nation, the bravest of the Indian warriors. In victory, the Mexicans are humane and merciful, but the Indian nature is different. Excited and impassioned, it finds vent in terrible deeds. Therefore, as you are surrounded and cannot escape, we ask you to surrender now, and save the lives of your men."
It was hard for Phil to restrain an exclamation at this piece of presumption, but Middleton received it gravely. His face was still without expression. Nevertheless, his reply was barbed.
"Your demand seems inopportune, Lieutenant de Armijo," he replied. "You can scarcely have forgotten, since it occurred less than an hour ago, the defeat of both your cavalry and your Comanche allies. Perhaps we are unduly confident, but we feel that we can do so again, as often as needed."
De Armijo frowned. He glanced at his Indian comrades. Phil wondered if he had been deceiving them with promises of what the invincible Mexican lancers could and would do. But the two savages made no response. Their coppery faces did not move.