“We will bring him along with us,” said Captain Driscoll; “the poor wretch has shown great courage, and deserves to live. Perhaps we may learn from him something about his tribe.”
The captive Indian was dragged along; and, finding that at present he had no chance of escape, he came on quietly. No less than eight of the Mexicans had lost their lives, so sudden had been the attack of the red men, and most of the bodies had been deprived of their scalps. As it was impossible to carry the corpses with us, and we had not time to bury them, they were left to afford a banquet to the birds of the air and the beasts of the forest—a common occurrence in this country. Some of those who had run away now came back, and by degrees the whole party was once more collected together. It was already late in the afternoon, and we were anxious to find some place where we could rest for the night. There was a village, we heard, at no great distance, and by riding pretty hard we might reach it by nightfall. After what had occurred, this we were all well disposed to do, for we could not tell at what moment the Comanches, when they found that our numbers were smaller than they had supposed, might come back and attack us. It was amusing to hear the vapouring and boasting of the Mexicans, as our friends, with their own comments, translated it to us. The greatest boasters were the greatest cowards. Not one but could offer an excellent reason for having run away. Several were going to procure help; others to get behind the Indians, to attack them in the rear; others were heroically making a diversion, to draw off their attention from their friends. It was nearly dark when we reached the village, but not a sign of living beings was there—no dog barked, no child’s cheerful voice was heard, not a cock crew. Alas! there were blackened roofs and walls, and charred door-posts. The Indians had been there; all the inhabitants must have been slain or had fled. We rode through the hamlet; not a human being was to be found. One house—the largest in the place—had escaped entire destruction. It had two stories; a ladder led to the upper one. It would afford us shelter during the night, which gave signs of being a tempestuous one. Behind the house were some sheds, where our horses might be tethered. The first thing to be done was to obtain food for them. It was more important that they should be fed than that we should; so a party was sent out to cut grass, and soon returned with a sufficiency. Most of the people had brought provisions, as we likewise had done, and thus in that respect we were very well off. Captain Driscoll, by tacit consent, was chosen to make the arrangements for our security during the night. In the lower room was a large hearth, on which a blazing fire was made, and by the light of it we ate our somewhat frugal supper. We then all climbed up into the loft, and the Mexicans, with their scrapes, and saddles, and saddle-cloths, soon made themselves comfortable beds, and we imitated their example. The Indian prisoner had been made to come up, and then they bound his arms and legs, and he sat in one corner with a man to watch him. I had been asleep some time, when I felt Jerry pulling at my arm. I looked up. The light of the moon was streaming in through a gap in the roof, for the storm which had threatened had passed off. Jerry put his finger to his lips to impose silence, and pointed to the Indian. He was sitting up; his hands were free, and he was busily employed in disengaging his legs from the lashings which secured them. What to do I scarcely knew. If the prisoner would go away without hurting any one, I thought it would be the best thing that could happen. Then it occurred to me that if he escaped he might give information to his friends of our whereabouts, so I thought it would be best to stop him. I was on the point of singing out, when up sprung the Indian, the long knife of his sleeping guard in his hand. He was about to plunge it into the man, when Jerry’s and my shouts arrested his arm, and leaping down the trap-hole at which the ladder was placed, before those who had been aroused could catch hold of him, away he flew through the village. Pursuit was instantly made, but before the foot of the ladder could be reached, he was out of sight. Those who had gone after the Indian returned looking very foolish; and the man who had charge of him was soundly rated, but that was all that could be done. I found that the same reason for apprehension was entertained by the party which had occurred to me. However, after a time, the Mexicans got tired of watching, and all lay down again in their places. I could not go to sleep. I did not like the thought of that Indian escaping, and I wondered that Captain Driscoll did not take more precautions to guard against a surprise. I found that Jerry was awake, and when I told him my ideas he agreed with me. We lay still for a little time, and then we got up and looked out. The night was perfectly still and fine. We fancied that if anybody were stirring we should not fail to hear. We went back into the loft, and then found that Captain Driscoll was awake. He asked us what we had been about. We told him our apprehensions. He laughed, and replied, that after the drubbing we had given the red rascals they would not venture to come near us.
“The Duke of Wellington tells us that we should never despise our enemies, whoever they may be,” I answered.
Captain Driscoll laughed. “The duke was not thinking of Red Indians,” he observed. “Don’t be alarmed, my boys, the thieves won’t come.” Scarcely had he uttered the words, when there was a neighing, and kicking, and stamping of horses’ feet in the court-yard below us. We looked out. The place was full of Red Indians!
“To arms! to arms!” shouted the captain. Everybody was instantly on their feet. I found that he had more arrangements than I had fancied. The Indians had got over the walls of the court-yard, but the gate was so blocked up that they could not open it to get our horses through. Their only outlet was through our house. The door leading to this was instantly occupied by some of the Mexicans, while others ran their rifles through all the crevices and holes in the walls, and began firing away at the Indians. They, disappointed in their attempt to carry off our horses, after ham-stringing several of them, leaped back over the walls, exposing themselves as they did so to the rifles of the Mexicans. Several were shot down, but the greater number made their escape. No one attempted to follow them, however, for there could be no doubt that a large party of them were in the neighbourhood, and that they would very likely renew their attack on us. They did not disappoint us. In less than a quarter of an hour the trampling of horses’ hoofs was heard, and through the gloom of night a large body of horsemen was seen galloping up through the street of the ruined village. As they got near, they gave vent to the most unearthly shrieks and cries, intending, undoubtedly, to terrify us. Captain Driscoll was not, however, totally unprepared for them. He had stationed the best marksmen of the party behind the walls of the enclosure and at the windows of the house. There was little time, however, to make the arrangements, but each man seemed to know pretty well what he had to do. Not a shot was fired, not a word was uttered. The Indians, expecting an easy victory, galloped along the road, flourishing their lances, or holding their rifles ready to fire as soon as any one appeared to fire at. They got close up to the walls of the house, and there halted, fancying apparently that we had already decamped. Some got off their horses, to examine the ground for our trail.
“Tira! tira!—fire, my lads, fire!” shouted our leader in Spanish and English. Every one of us obeyed the order, with such effect that fully a dozen savages were knocked over, and many more wounded. We lost not a moment in loading again. The savages, firing their rifles at us, rode desperately up to the walls, as if intending to jump off their horses and climb over them. Had they succeeded in so doing, they might have overwhelmed us with their numbers. They were, however, received with another volley, delivered with such good effect that their courage failed them, and, wheeling about, they galloped away down the road as fast as they could tear. Two Mexicans only were wounded, and not very seriously. As may be supposed, no one went to sleep again that night; and as soon as day broke we were all in our saddles, that we might reach Durango before dark. We now proceeded with something like military order, to avoid a surprise; for it was thought probable that the Indians might have formed an ambush on the road, with the intention of attacking us. In the afternoon, as we rode along, we caught sight of a body of horsemen winding their way down a hill on the opposite side of the valley. They might be Indians. Each man examined the lock of his musket or rifle, and felt his side for his sword. They approached, and we then saw that they were a troop of cavalry. They were very ragged, and their horses were very miserable, and certainly they did not appear as if they could contend with the well-mounted Indians we had encountered. These Comanche Indians, as the Mexicans call them, succeed in their forays by the rapidity of their movements. They will accomplish a hundred miles in the day, driving several horses before them. When one is tired, they mount another. If any are killed by over-riding, their places can always be supplied from the nearest, cattle estate. They strike terror among the widely-scattered inhabitants of the borders; but there is no doubt, if they were bravely and systematically opposed, they would be very quickly driven away, or compelled to have recourse to more peaceable occupations for their support Durango is a pretty little town, with white-washed, flat-roofed houses, standing on a plain surrounded by high rugged hills, a remarkable feature being the number and size of the American aloes which grow in the neighbourhood. We put up at a meson, not remarkable for its cleanliness or the luxury of its provisions, and were not sorry to find ourselves once more in our saddles on our way back to Mazatlan. We reached that place without any adventure; and the same evening, having wished our kind friends, Captain Driscoll and Mr Dwyer, good-bye, sailed for San Francisco, the wonderful port of the gold regions of California.