Mounted as he was upon my own noble steed, I knew there would be no chance of any of my comrades overtaking him; and this it was that was driving me to distraction.
“Fire at the horse!” cried several of the “rangers,” who seemed to be influenced by the thought, “Bring him down, and then—”
There was a moment of silence. I listened for the shots. They came not: the rifles of all had been discharged, and were empty. It was the earnest action of re-loading them that had caused that momentary interval of silence.
Fortunately it was so, else, in recovering my sweetheart, I should have lost the finest steed that ever carried rider. As it was, both were restored to me.
The silence gave me the opportunity I wanted, though only then did the thought occur to me.
With a wrench I raised my body half erect; and, concentrating all my energies into the effort, I gave utterance to a cry that, if heard, I knew that my steed would understand.
He both heard and understood it: for before its echoes had ceased to reverberate through the rancheria, the horse was seen to wheel suddenly round, and come galloping back!
In vain did Rayas strive to turn him to the track. He only succeeded in checking him, when a struggle commenced—my voice against the spurs of the robber.
During the strife Rayas found full occupation in the management of Moro, without thinking of the Jarocha. Even his teeth became disengaged from the plaits of her hair; and, seeing a chance for safety, the young girl made a desperate effort, and succeeded in getting clear of that unwelcome embrace.
In another instant she had reached the ground, and was seen running back towards the rancheria.