Amicable relations being thus established between them, the men on both sides are observed to dismount, as if they intended to make stay in the tolderia. A movement, which puzzles Kaolin and the gaucho, who were about going back to the gorge with the design of taking steps for defending it. Instead, they remain upon the cliff’s crest to watch the enemy below.
And they continue watching there till the sun goes down, and the purple of twilight spreads itself over the plain bordering the Pilcomayo; this succeeded by a mist rising from the river, and shrouding the deserted village in its murky embrace. But before night’s darkness is altogether on they see a mounted troop, filing by twos, out from among the toldos, with lances carried aloft, and pennons floating over their heads—surely the cuarteleros. There is just light enough left to show two men in the lead, dressed differently from these following. One of these resplendent in a feather-embroidered manta, Kaolin recognises as his rival Aguara; while the gaucho identifies the other as his oldest, deadliest, and most dangerous enemy, Valdez, the vaqueano.
They remain not a moment longer on the cliff; for, eager as Gaspar Mendez may be to rid himself of that enemy, he is not more so than the Indian to send to his long account the man who insulted his sister. Now more than ever determined upon avenging her wrongs, he rushes back to his braves, and hurriedly puts them in ambush near the head of the gorge, at a point where the defile is narrowest; himself taking stand on a ledge, which commands the pass, in such manner, that with his long spear he can reach across it from side to side.
At length has the opportunity arrived for the angry brother to take the retribution he has resolved upon—Nacena herself being a witness to it. For she is near by, standing on a higher bench behind, in posed attitude, with her features hard set and lips compressed, as one about to be spectator to a sad and painful scene. But if she feel sadness, it is not for the death now threatening Aguara. That blow had changed her fond love to bitterest resentment; and instead of doing aught, or saying word, to stay her brother’s hand, she but by her presence and silence incites him to the deed of vengeance.
It is soon and quickly done. Scarce has the ambuscade been set, when the trampling of horses heard down the defile tells of a cavalcade coming up, and presently the foremost files appear rounding an angle of rock. Dim as is the light, the horseman leading can be told to be the young Tovas cacique, while the one immediately in his rear is recognisable as Rufino Valdez. At sight of the latter the gaucho, who is close to Kaolin, feeling all his old hatred revived, and recalling, too, the murder of his beloved master, with difficulty restrains himself from springing down and commencing the conflict. He is prevented by a sign from Kaolin; who, on the instant, after leaning forward lounges out with his spear. A wild cry tells that it has pierced the body of Aguara; then drawn instantly back and given a second thrust, it passes through that of the vaqueano—both dropping from their horses dead, as if by a bullet through the brain!
The soldiers coming on behind are brought to a sudden stop; scarce comprehending why, till they hear the wild Tovas war-cry raised above their heads, at the same time being saluted with a shower of bolas peridas rained down from the rocks, these terrible missiles crushing in every skull with which they came into contact.
The scared cuarteleros stay for no more; but, with a cry of treason, turn their horses’ heads, and hurry back down the ravine. Nor stop they at the tolderia; but still under the belief of having been betrayed, continue their retreat down the river, and on toward Paraguay, leaving over a dozen of them dead in that dark defile.
As for the followers of Aguara, they make no show of fight. Now that their leader is no more, there is no cause of quarrel between them and the warriors of the tribe, and not a hand is raised to avenge their young cacique. For on learning the full character of his designs, and his complicity with the cruel vaqueano, all acknowledge that both men have but met the death they deserved.