"Except a pack-train and spare horses," replied Colonel Romero. "We pushed ahead a little, and they took it easily. They are only a few miles behind and will soon catch up with us."
He said more, and he had a good voice. He accompanied his very distinct utterances with gestures, not dreaming that the sage-hen or any other improper listener was near enough to learn too much.
Even in his rabbit-patch, however, Kah-go-mish could not entirely restrain his thoughts.
"Ugh!" he muttered. "Heap pony. Heap mule."
Horses and men had quenched their thirst and both sides were eating luncheon. The two commanders separated, and Captain Moore turned away. As he did so a large man stood before him with flushed, excited face.
"Captain Moore, Cal is lost! Lost in the chaparral!"
That was why he had stepped away so suddenly, for Sam Herrick had first beckoned to him, and then had led him aside to say that Cal had not come in with the rest. He had hunted for him all around, but not one of the men had seen him for an hour and a half. The colonel himself had at once made rapid inquiries, and now he had brought the news to Captain Moore, in such a state of mind that he could not think.
"Cal!" exclaimed the captain. "Lost! Oh, no. Don't be so agitated. You can find him."
The colonel tried to speak, but his voice refused to do its duty.
"Herrick, Sam," said the captain, quietly, "those Greasers have more bugles than they need. Buy a couple. I'll lend you mine. Stop. I'll speak to Colonel Romero about it."