The diligencia is usually accompanied by an escolta—a troop of dragones, or lanzeros, ill-armed and equipped; whose tattered uniforms, and feet set shoeless in their stirrups, render them more grotesque than terrible.
At times the escort is itself attacked; and a sharp skirmish comes off between troops and bandits—the former not unfrequently fleeing the field, and leaving their protégés, the passengers, to be plundered at the discretion of the triumphant salteadores.
At other times the escolta declines “coming to the scratch”—having taken the precaution just at the critical moment to be riding far in the rear; then galloping up with swaggering demonstration, after the robbers have completed their pillage, and gone away from the ground!
Either a strong escort, or none at all, was Sam Brown’s sentiment; but his preference was, decidedly, for none at all!
In the latter case the diligencia is often permitted to continue its route uninterrupted: the bandits believing, that it carries no passengers worth protecting, and therefore not worth pillaging!
It is no rare thing for the “escolta” itself to be suspected; or at least the officer commanding it. More than once has the connivance been established, by evidence, in a court of law!
Still rarer does punishment follow in any proportion to the diabolical crime—the criminal usually getting clear by turning salteador himself!
On the other hand, there are times when an honest officer—one of action and courage—makes his appearance upon the scene; and by the energetic performance of his duty becomes a terror to the bandits—rendering the roads comparatively safe.
Unluckily this improved state of things continues but for a short period. Some new grito—followed by the usual spasmodic revolution—brings about a change, both in rulers and robbers; who sometimes also exchange situations! The energetic officer is snatched away from the scene—either by death, or promotion to a better post; and the passage of the roads becomes perilous as ever.
Such were a few of the revelations I had from the lips of Don Samuel Bruno, as we journeyed along the lone causeway leading by the lake Tezcoco.