For some time we stayed, crouching behind the trees, where we had first come within sight of the cabin.
Who could say what was best to be done? This was the inquiry that passed mechanically among us.
The sergeant had conceived an idea. He was an old veteran of the Texan wars—had served in the campaigns of Houston—and obtained a thorough knowledge of the Mexican character.
“Best way, capten,” said he, whispering close to my ear, “would be to besiege ’em, and make ’em come to tarms.”
“How?”
“Surround the place. It’s half surrounded already. We’ve only got to ‘filade’ the other half, and they’ll be complete caged.”
There was sense in the sergeant’s suggestion. I should at once have acceded to it, but for the thought—I need not say what. Time was the enemy I most dreaded. Just then an hour seemed eternity!
“No,” I rejoined, “we must attack them at once. If we leave them undisturbed till the morning, then our pursuit would be to no purpose. These ladies—”
“I kin understan you, capten. I didn’t mean to leave it till the mornin’. Let’s pounce upon ’em now—them that’s outside yonder! Lick that lot up first, and then summon the others to surrender. Seein’ their comrades taken, and theirselves surrounded—with ne’er a chance of escapin’—they’ll be only too glad to give up the weemen—ay, without rufflin’ a hair o’ their heads. Besides,” continued he, pointing to the summit of Ixticihuatl, seen distinctly from the spot, “talkin’ o’ mornin’, look yonder, capten!”
I directed my glance upwards. A roseate tint appeared upon the snow. It was the first kiss of the Aurora. Though still night where we lay, there were signs of morn upon the summit of the mountain. In less than twenty minutes there would be daylight around us!