Chapter Forty Six.
A Secret Confided.
The first dawn of day witnessed an unusual stir in and around the hacienda of Casa del Corvo. The courtyard was crowded with men—armed, though not in the regular fashion. They carried long hunting rifles, having a calibre of sixty to the pound; double-barrelled shot guns; single-barrelled pistols; revolvers; knives with long blades; and even tomahawks!
In their varied attire of red flannel shirts, coats of coloured blanket, and “Kentucky jeans,” trowsers of brown “homespun,” and blue “cottonade,” hats of felt and caps of skin, tall boots of tanned leather, and leggings of buck—these stalwart men furnished a faithful picture of an assemblage, such as may be often seen in the frontier settlements of Texas.
Despite the bizarrerie of their appearance, and the fact of their carrying weapons, there was nothing in either to proclaim their object in thus coming together. Had it been for the most pacific purpose, they would have been armed and apparelled just the same.
But their object is known.
A number of the men so met, had been out on the day before, along with the dragoons. Others had now joined the assemblage—settlers who lived farther away, and hunters who had been from home.
The muster on this morning was greater than on the preceding day—even exceeding the strength of the searching party when supplemented by the soldiers.
Though all were civilians, there was one portion of the assembled crowd that could boast of an organisation. Irregular it may be deemed, notwithstanding the name by which its members were distinguished. These were the “Regulators.”
There was nothing distinctive about them, either in their dress, arms, or equipments. A stranger would not have known a Regulator from any other individual. They knew one another.