What effect his tale would have, I could not guess. I could see that the horsemen were halted—perhaps awaiting the return of their messenger. They were too distant to be seen by the Mexicans; and the minute after, they were also invisible to my eyes upon the darkly-shadowed prairie.
Before communicating with Garey, I resolved to wait for another gleam of moonlight, so that I might have a more distinct story to tell.
Chapter Forty Two.
The Caballada.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour before the cloud moved away; and then, to my surprise, I saw a clump of horses—not horsemen—upon the prairie, and scarcely half-a-mile distant from the mesa! Not one of them was mounted, and, to all appearance, it was a drove of wild-horses that had galloped up during the interval of darkness, and were now standing silent and motionless.
I strained my eyes upon the distant prairie, but the dim horsemen were no longer to be seen. They must have ridden off beyond the range of vision?
I was about to seek my comrade and communicate to him what had passed, when, on rising to my feet, I found him standing by my side. He had been all around the summit without seeing aught, and had returned to satisfy himself that the guerrilla were still quiet.
“Hillow!” he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the caballada. “What the darnation’s yonder? A drove o’ wild hosses? It’s mighty strange them niggers don’t notice ’em! By the etarnal—”