This incident warns them that strict watch must be kept to avoid surprises from roving bands infesting some of these mountain fastnesses.
The four bandits evidently were a scouting party. Seeing Oswald and Karl, they had ventured an attack. Their tactics in trying to cut off return of the two showed knowledge of the camp's location.
Though painful, Karl's wound healed rapidly.
Oswald was lionized. Many times Karl told how that quiet Englishman rode up to his side and faced the horsemen when they were trying to cut the two off from camp. Karl would insist that all of Oswald's shots took effect except the last, and he thought that perhaps this slightly wounded the fleeing bandit. That feint of death, vigorous resurrection, and terrific right-hander electrified the garrulous Karl, who is tireless in praise of Oswald's prowess.
Though thankful for their narrow escape, Oswald feels no elation. At least one human being suddenly had been sent by him before his Maker, and another through his act is about to cross the dark river. His conscience is clear, but why was he not spared this sad notoriety?
From the wounded man's features, it was believed that he came from Spain or Mexico. His rambling, delirious utterances were a jargon of mixed tongues. He lived for a week at the camp, but never gave any clew to his identity.
Oswald was the most frequent watcher at the cot of the dying man, anticipating every want, appearing to thereby seek atonement for the fatal shot.
In the last hour Oswald borrowed from one of the party a crucifix. Holding this before the glazing eye of the conscious bandit, he gently lifts the right arm, placing the emblem within the hand which is then laid across the breast.
With a smile, clasping this sacred symbol, the outlaw passes into the Beyond.
There were no papers on the three dead men giving any clew. They were buried about one mile from camp.