As, somewhat disconsolately, I pondered over the matter that night before retiring, I resolved to hunt out Enrique early next day, explain things fully, and endeavour to bring about a reconciliation. Having settled the affair satisfactorily in my own mind, I climbed into bed for the night, and, after reading a short while, dropped off to sleep, leaving a lamp burning at my bedside.
How long I slept I do not know, but suddenly something woke me, and I opened my eyes to behold, standing at the foot of the bed, calmly surveying my person, a disreputable-looking Indian! In his right hand he held a “machete,” or huge cane knife, about four feet long, and as I watched him he ran his finger along the edge, seemingly to ascertain whether or not it was sharp enough for the business he intended it for. Grabbing my pillow, I sprang to my feet on the bed and backed against the wall—just in time to catch a heavy blow from the machete upon the pillow, which I held in front of me as a shield. For the moment I had forgotten all about the revolver which I usually kept under my head, and which now lay exposed in the lamplight. As I reached for it the would-be assassin’s nerve failed him, and with a rush he fled out of the door. A moment later I heard him mount a horse and make off at a gallop down the road.
There was, of course, no more sleep for me until daylight. I had no doubt that Enrique, maddened by jealousy, was the prime mover in the performance, which, needless to say, upset me very badly. Nevertheless, I had resolved to see Enrique that day, and now I was more than ever anxious to clear up the unfortunate misunderstanding that had arisen. So, saddling early, I proceeded towards the cattle ranch, taking with me the boy servant who had been kindly assigned to me by Don Eduardo. When we were about a mile from the ranch the boy, to my amazement, suddenly doubled up and began to howl. Springing from my horse and running to him, I found a bullet-hole through the fleshy part of his thigh, from which the blood flowed freely. The wound had undoubtedly been caused by a high-power rifle bullet, fired at such a distance that it was impossible to hear the report. Dressing the wound as best I could, I took the lad up behind me and made for Las Flores, where I put him to bed and redressed the wound. Things were getting a good bit too lively for my liking, and I would much rather have been in Santa Ana just then than where I was. If I had not been afraid of assassination on the road I would certainly have made my departure immediately.
This second adventure, of course, caused considerable excitement in the family, as I had already mentioned my night’s alarm, and I was the object of much sympathy from the young ladies, who now began to take my part. I sent several notes over to Enrique’s place, and Don Eduardo also went across to look him up, but he was not to be found.
“ENRIQUE SAW ME KISS THE SEÑORITA JUST AS HE WAS DISMOUNTING.”
About this time another misfortune befell me. Roberto came over and found me holding a very earnest conversation with his betrothed. Knowing nothing of previous happenings, this fiery-tempered young man became violently enraged, and, without asking any explanation, immediately attacked me with a heavy riding-whip. We had a smart struggle, but I succeeded in wresting it from him and knocking him down with a blow from my fist. Springing to his feet with a snarl, he made off as fast as his legs would carry him, leaving his horse tied to the gate. The señorita promptly swooned, and the last glimpse Roberto got of us showed me carrying the young lady in my arms into the house. I have a faint recollection of seeing him shake his fist at me and grind his gleaming white teeth.
Well, now I was “up against it” properly, with two heart-broken girls on my hands and two lovers vowing to have my life. I discussed the matter at length with Don Eduardo, explaining to him that, while I liked the young ladies very much indeed and valued their friendship greatly, I was not in love with them and had done nothing to warrant anyone in thinking I was, the “kiss incident” notwithstanding. It seemed very hard lines that I should go in peril of my life and get into general hot water through trying, by means of a harmless joke, to bring a bashful or undecided lover “up to the scratch.”
Needless to say, I was very much worried by the turn things were taking, and for several days I got very little sleep. One night, while tossing wakefully upon my bed, I seemed to feel some danger in the air, so much so that I got up and lit the lamp to get rid of the feeling of depression which seemed to overwhelm me. Lying down again, I fell into a light slumber. Presently I was awakened by something touching me upon the shoulder. Opening my eyes, I saw right above me, with his head and one shoulder through the window, the same old Indian who had previously visited me. He was trying to slip a noose over my head by means of a long stick, but the instant I opened my eyes he disappeared. A moment later the noose slipped over the bed-post, dragging the entire end out bodily and jerking it against the wall. There followed a snort and a grunt outside, and the sound of a horse dashing off.
Next morning revealed a broken saddle to which the rope had been tied, it evidently being the intention to jerk me through the window—which stood eleven feet from the ground—thus breaking my neck most effectually.