“True, señor, that’s all. But there are rocks strewn over the llano below, for hundreds of yards out, and so thick we couldn’t take the wagons through them. I suppose they must have fallen from the cliffs, but how they got scattered so far, that puzzles me, though rocks have been the study of my life.”
“So they have, Pedro,” put in Don Estevan. “And you’ve studied them to some purpose. But let us not enter into a geological discussion now. I feel more concerned about something else.”
“About what, your worship?”
“Some memory tells me that Indians are accustomed to visit the Cerro Perdido. Though I can see no sign of human being about it, who knows but there might be?”
This is said after examination of the plain all along the base of the mountain through a field-glass, which Don Estevan habitually carries on his person.
“Therefore,” he continues, “I think it advisable that some five or six ride ahead—those who are best mounted—and make sure that the coast is clear. In case of redskins being there in any formidable numbers, the knowledge of it in time will enable us to form corral, and so better defend ourselves should we be attacked.”
Before becoming a master miner, Don Estevan had been a soldier, and seen service on the Indian frontier, in more than one campaign against the three great hostile tribes, Comanches, Apache, and Navajo. For which reason the gambusino, instead of making light of his counsel, altogether approves of it—of course volunteering to be himself of the reconnoitring party.
In fine, there is another short halt, while the scouts are being selected; half a dozen men of spirit and mettle, whose horses are still strong enough to show speed, should there be Indians and pursuit.
Of the half-dozen, Henry Tresillian is one; he coming up quick to the call. No fear of his horse giving out, or failing to carry him safe back if pursued, and whoever the pursuers. A noble animal of Arab strain it is, coal-black, with a dash of dun-colour between the hips and on either side of the muzzle. Nor shows it signs of distress, as the others, notwithstanding all it has come through. For has not its young master shared with it every ration of water served out along the way, even the last one that morning?
In a few minutes the scouting party is told off, and, after receiving full instructions, starts onward.