"Humph!" growled Bowie. "They're only waiting for something or they'd dash out at him. But isn't he a buster! He'll equal his father some day. This is too bad, anyhow. All those dollars must stay where they are for a while."
Every horse was brought in without any further incident, but, for all that, the situation of the mere handful of Texans was becoming extremely unpleasant. It would, however, have been a great deal more so if they had been compelled to rely upon their own scanty knowledge of the neighborhood they were in. It was too new a country.
Colonel Bowie had not moved until the animals were safe, but he now put his fingers to his lips and blew a long, vibrating whistle. Instantly his men arose behind their covers of adobe or of rough ground and began to make their way to the central ruin. It was rapidly done, and Red Wolf was the last to come in, leading his own sorrel.
"We're corralled!" said one of the men.
"Not quite so bad as that," replied another; "and it'll be bad for them if they rush in."
"I reckon they're waiting for more to come," said the colonel, coolly. "It takes a good many to work a surround."
"Bueno!" said Tetzcatl just then. "Time to go. Beat the redskins now."
"Go ahead," responded Bowie; "we're ready."
The men mounted at the word. They had been hurriedly putting on saddles, and bridles, and now they sat like statues on horseback while he exchanged a few swift sentences with their white-headed guide.
"Forward! Take it easy!" was the next command.