“It may be that I could not. I would try. At the worst, I can but die; and better die with a weapon in my hands!”
“It would be better,” muttered the torero in reply. “I will try to help you to a weapon, but my life may be—”
He paused. “If you look behind you,” he continued, in a significant manner, while he appeared to examine the tops of the distant mountains, “you may see a tomahawk. I think it is held carelessly. It might be snatched.”
I understood his meaning, and stole a glance around. Dacoma was at a few paces’ distance, superintending the start. I saw the weapon in his belt. It was loosely stuck. It might be snatched!
I possess extreme tenacity of life, with energy to preserve it. I have not illustrated this energy in the adventures through which we have passed; for, up to a late period, I was merely a passive spectator of the scenes enacted, and in general disgusted with their enactment. But at other times I have proved the existence of those traits in my character. In the field of battle, to my knowledge, I have saved my life three times by the quick perception of danger and the promptness to ward it off. Either less or more brave, I should have lost it. This may seem an enigma; it appears a puzzle; it is an experience.
In my earlier life I was addicted to what are termed “manly sports.” In running and leaping I never met my superior; and my feats in such exercises are still recorded in the memories of my college companions.
Do not wrong me, and think that I am boasting of these peculiarities. The first is but an accident in my mental character; and others are only rude accomplishments, which now, in my more matured life, I see but little reason to be proud of. I mention them only to illustrate what follows.
Ever since the hour of my capture I had busied my mind with plans of escape. Not the slightest opportunity had as yet offered. All along the journey we had been guarded with the most zealous vigilance.
During this last night a new plan had occupied me. It had been suggested by seeing Sanchez upon his horse.
I had matured it all, except getting possession of a weapon; and I had hopes of escape, although I had neither time nor opportunity to detail them to the torero. It would have served no purpose to have told him them.