“You will have them at the Eagle’s Cave by six in the morning; by six, do you hear?”
“Yes, Captain,” again replied the subordinate.
“And if any of them is missing—is missing, do you hear?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“You will take his place in the dance—the dance—ha! ha! ha! You understand that, Lopez?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Enough then, good Lopez—handsome Lopez! beautiful Lopez!—enough, and good-night to you!”
So saying, the Jarocho drew his quirt several times across the red cheek of Raoul, and with a curse upon his lips he leaped upon his mustang and galloped off.
Whatever might be the nature of the punishment that awaited us at the Eagle’s Cave, it was evident that Lopez had no intention of becoming proxy in it for any of us. This was plain from the manner in which he set about securing us. We were first gagged with bayonet-shanks, and then dragged out into the bushes.
Here we were thrown upon our backs, each of us in the centre of four trees that formed a parallelogram. Our arms and legs were stretched to their full extent, and tied severally to the trees; and thus we lay, spread out like raw hides to dry. Our savage captors drew the cords so taut that our joints cracked under the cruel tension. In this painful position, with a Jarocho standing over each of us, we passed the remainder of the night.