But there was no reply. The crackling blaze—the sighing of the night wind—the hooting of the cliff owl, and the howling of the coyote, alone answered his anxious calls.
After remaining until all hope had vanished, he turned towards the prostrate body, and knelt down to examine it. To his surprise there was still life, and, after her lips had been touched with water, the old woman showed symptoms of recovery. She had only been stunned by the heavy blow.
Don Juan at length lifted her in his arms, and taking the well-known path returned with his burden, and with a heavy heart, to his own house.
Next morning the news of the affair was carried through all the settlement, adding to the terror of the inhabitants. The Comandante with a large troop galloped conspicuously through the town; and after much loud talk and empty demonstrations, went off on the trail which the Indians were supposed to have taken.
Long before night the troopers returned with their usual report, “los barbaros no pudimos alcanzar.” (We could not overtake the savages.)
They said that they had followed the trail to the Pecos, where the Indians had crossed, and that the savages had continued on towards the Llano Estacado.
This piece of news gave some relief, for it was conjectured, if the marauders had gone in that direction, their plundering would end. They had probably proceeded to join the rest of their tribe, known to be somewhere in that quarter.