I aimed a blow, but in my hurry missed him. I had no time for another. I turned and ran. He was so taken by surprise that I was out of his reach before he could make a motion to follow me.
I ran, not for the open avenue, but to one side of the circle of spectators, where were the old men and idlers.
These had drawn their hand weapons, and were closing towards me in a thick rank. Instead of endeavouring to break through them, which I doubted my ability to accomplish, I threw all my energy into the spring, and leaped clear over their shoulders. Two or three stragglers struck at me as I passed them, but missed their aim; and the next moment I was out upon the open plain, with the whole village yelling at my heels.
I well knew for what I was running. Had it not been for that, I should never have made the start. I was running for the caballada.
I was running, too, for my life, and I required no encouragement to induce me to make the best of it.
I soon distanced those who had been nearest me at starting; but the swiftest of the Indians were the young men who had formed the lines, and I saw that these were now forging ahead of the others.
Still they were not gaining upon me. My school training stood me in service now.
After a mile’s chase, I saw that I was within less than half that distance of the caballada, and at least three hundred yards ahead of my pursuers; but to my horror, as I glanced back, I saw mounted men! They were still far behind, but I knew they would soon come up. Was it possible he could hear me?
I knew that in these elevated regions sounds are heard twice the ordinary distance; and I shouted, at the top of my voice, “Moro! Moro!”
I did not halt, but ran on, calling as I went.