“Where were my ears?” asked the cibolero of himself. “You are sure, Antonio?”
“Quite sure, master.”
Carlos remained for a moment silent, evidently engaged in busy reflection. After a pause, he broke out in a half-soliloquy:—
“It may have been—it must have been—by Heavens! it must—”
“What, master?”
“The Pané whistle!”
“Just what I was thinking, master. The Comanches never whoop so—the Kiawa never. I have not heard that the Wacoes give such a signal. Why not Pané? Besides, their being afoot—that’s like Pané!”
A sudden revulsion had taken place in the mind of the cibolero. There was every probability that Antonio’s conjecture was correct. The “whistle” is a peculiar signal of the Pané tribes. Moreover, the fact of so many of the marauders being on foot—that was another peculiarity. Carlos knew that among the Southern Indians such a tactic is never resorted to. The Panés are Horse-Indians too, but on their marauding expeditions to the South they often go afoot, trusting to return mounted—which they almost invariably do.
“After all,” thought Carlos, “I have been wronging the Wacoes—the robbers are Panés!”
But now a new suspicion entered his mind. It was still the Wacoes that had done it. They had adopted the Pané whistle to deceive him! A party of them might easily be afoot—it was not such a distance to their camp,—besides, after the estampeda they had gone in that very direction!