It was but for a moment that Carlos hesitated. Should he wait to reload his rifle the other would get off. This reflection decided him. He dropped the piece to the ground, turned his horse’s head, and shot rapidly across the plain in the direction of the river. In a dozen seconds he reined up in front of his skulking foe.
The latter, seeing himself cut off from the horses, halted and stood at bay, as if determined to fight. But before Carlos could dismount to close with him, his heart once more gave way; and, breaking through the willows, he plunged into the river.
Carlos had not calculated upon this. He stood for some moments in a state of surprise and dismay. Would the fiend escape him? He had come to the ground. Whether should he mount again or follow on foot?
He was not long irresolute. He chose the latter course, and, rushing through the willows where the other had passed, he paused a moment on the edge of the stream. Just then his enemy emerged upon the opposite bank, and, without a moment’s halt, started off in full run across the plain. Again Carlos thought of following on horseback, but the banks were high,—a horse might find it difficult to ford at such a place,—perhaps impossible. There was no time to be lost in experiments.
“Surely,” thought Carlos, “I am swift as he. For a trial then!”
And as he uttered the words he flung himself broad upon the water.
A few strokes carried him across the stream; and, climbing out on the opposite bank, he sprang after his retreating foe.
The zambo had by this time got full two hundred yards in the advance, but before he had run two hundred more, there was not half that distance between them. There was no comparison in their speed. Carlos fairly doubled upon his terrified antagonist, although the latter was doing his utmost. He knew that he was running for his life.
Not ten minutes did the chase continue.
Carlos drew near. The zambo heard his footsteps close behind. He felt it was idle to run any longer. He halted, and once more stood at bay.