Leaving this necessary digression, and returning to the Coyoteros—more especially to their chief, we hear him call out to those of his followers who carry the ancient firelock, giving them orders to advance some paces and send shots into the white man’s camp.
Dismounting, they do so, aiming at the wagons and tent inside, so correctly that their big bullets, an ounce in weight, are seen to hit the mark. But without effect following, any more than if their shots were meant for the façade of cliff beyond, whose rocks echo back the reports of the antiquated pieces, as if in hilarious mockery.
Chapter Twelve.
The Chase of Crusader.
By El Cascabel’s orders, repeatedly are the big muskets re-loaded and fired into the corral, till every wagon has had a bullet through it, and the tent is pierced in several places. But all with the same effect, the shots eliciting no other response than their own echoes. Now the Indians know for sure that the camp is unoccupied; and, but for their foreknowledge of the topography of the place, would be mystified indeed. But most of them have themselves been on the summit of Nauchampa-tepetl, and their eyes turn interrogatively towards it. Thither the white men must have retreated, leaving everything below.
They see nothing, however; not as much as a face. For Don Estevan has directed those by the head of the gorge to keep well under cover, in hopes of tempting the savages to an ascent in the face of his formidable battery.
But the Coyotero chief is too astute for that, knowing, moreover, that there is no chance for the despised enemy to escape him. Wrathful he is withal, at having been in a way outwitted, angry at himself for having made the surround so slowly. It will cost him a siege, he knows not how long, interfering with the expedition to the Horcasitas, perhaps to its abandonment. But there is some compensation in the plunder so unexpectedly come upon, and from what he sees it should be an ample one. Six large wagons with a grand tienda—litera also—visible, to say nothing of the numerous animals, a travelling party so well-appointed should also have commodities in correspondence, promising a rich prize.
The camp is good as captured already; but instead of hastening on to take possession, he proceeds slowly and systematically as ever; for nothing can be gained by speed now, and some thing may be lost—the loose animals. They are still crowded up in the embayment between the cliffs, but with heads aloft and ears apeak, neighing, snorting, and restless, as if about to make a break.