To the minds of both their purposed plan of action was clearly understood. They had their reasons for believing that the cibolero, during his period of outlawry, was dwelling in a cave that opened into this ravine, and which was well-known to the mulatto; that Carlos came out in the night, and approached the settlements--the place was but ten miles from his own rancho--and that he was met somewhere by Antonio, who gave him information of what was going on, bringing him provisions at the same time.

It was their intention to wait until Carlos should pass out, then occupy the cave themselves, and attack him on his return. True they might have waylaid him on his going forth, but that might result in a failure.

Catch him they could not while mounted. They might have crept near enough to get a shot at him, but, as the mulatto had said, that would have risked their losing him altogether.

Moreover, neither wanted to take only his scalp. The mulatto in particular had resolved on earning the double price by _taking him alive_. Even though it cost them some additional risk, his capture would doubly reward them, and for money these desperadoes were ready to venture anything. Withal, they were not so daring as to have cared for an open encounter. They knew something of the mettle of "el guero," but they trusted to the advantage they should obtain over him by stratagem.

On starting out they had resolved to follow him up, and steal upon him when asleep--and the plan which they had now formed had been the result of cogitations by the way. In Manuel's mind it had been developed long before the suggestion of the zambo.

They rested their hopes upon the belief that their victim would not know that they were after him--he could not have heard of their return from the buffalo-hunt, and therefore would be less on the alert. They knew if Carlos became aware that they were upon his trail he would pursue a _very_ different course from that observed towards his soldier-pursuers.

From these he could easily hide at any time upon the Llano Estacado, but it was different with men like the hunters, who, though they might not overtake him at the first burst, could follow on and find him again wherever he should ride to.

But both mulatto and zambo believed that their presence would be unsuspected by the guero, until they had laid hands upon him. Hence their confidence of success.

They certainly had taken measures that promised it, supposing their hypothesis to be correct--that is, supposing the cibolero to be in the cave at that moment, and that during the night he should come out of the ravine.

They were soon to know--the sun had already gone down. They would not have long to watch.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

Carlos _was_ in the cave, and at that very moment. Ever since the affair at the Presidio he had made it his dwelling, his "lair," and for reasons very similar to those which the mulatto had imparted to his companion. It afforded him a safe retreat, and at a convenient distance from his friends in the valley. Out of the ravine he could pass with safety by night, returning before day. During the day he slept. He had little fear of being tracked thither by the troopers; but even had they done so, his cave entrance commanded a full view of the ravine to its mouth at nearly a mile's distance, and any one approaching from that direction could be perceived long before they were near. If a force of troopers should enter by the mouth of the ravine, though both sides were inaccessible cliffs, the cibolero had his way of escape. As already stated, a narrow pass, steep and difficult, led from the upper end of the gully to the plain above. Steep and difficult as it was, it could be scaled by the black horse; and, once on the wide plain of the Llano Estacado, Carlos could laugh at his soldier-pursuers.

The only time his enemies could have reached him would be during his hours of sleep, or after darkness had fallen. But Carlos was not afraid even then. He went to sleep with as much unconcern as if he had been surrounded by a body-guard! This is explained by a knowledge of the fact that he _had_ his guard--a faithful guard--the dog Cibolo; for although Cibolo had received some lance-thrusts in his last terrible encounter, he had escaped without any fatal wound. He was still by the side of his master. While the latter slept the sagacious animal sat upon the ledge, and watched the ravine below. The sight of a soldier's uniform would have raised the hair along Cibolo's back and drawn from him the warning growl. Even in the darkness no one could have got within several hundred yards of the cave without attracting the notice of the dog, who would have given his master time to get off from the most rapid pursuers.

The cave was a large one, large enough to hold both men and horses.

Water, pure crystal water, dripped from the rocks near its inner end, and lay collected in a tank, that from its round bowl-like shape seemed to have been fashioned by the hand of man. But it was not so. Nature had formed this bowl and filled it with choicest water. Such a formation is by no means uncommon in that region. Caves containing similar tanks exist in the Waco and Guadalupe Mountains lying still farther to the south.

It was just the spot for a hiding-place--a refuge for either robber, outlaw, or other fugitive; and circumstanced as Carlos was it was the very dwelling for him. He had long known of its existence, and shared that knowledge only with hunters like himself and the wild Indians. No settlers of the valley ever ventured up that dark and dismal ravine.

In his lair Carlos had ample time for reflection, and bitter often were his reflections. He had information of all that passed. Antonio managed that. Nightly did he meet Antonio at a point on the Pecos, and receive from him the "novedades" of the settlement. The cunning mulatto had guessed correctly. Had Antonio brought his news direct to the cave, he might have been followed, and the hiding-place of Carlos have been thus discovered. To prevent that the cibolero nightly went forth to meet him.

Antonio, in collecting the news of the settlement, found in the young girl Josefa an able adjutant. Through her he learnt that Catalina de Cruces was kept under lock and key--that Roblado had only been wounded, and would recover--that new officers went out with the scouting-parties--and that his master's head had risen in price. The shallow artifice of the spies around the rancho had long been known to Carlos. Shallow as it was, it greatly annoyed him, as by these he was prevented from visiting his mother and sister. Through Antonio, however, he kept up almost daily communication with them. He might have been apprehensive in regard to his sister after what had occurred, but the villain Vizcarra was an invalid, and Carlos rightly judged why Rosita was permitted to go unmolested. He had little fear for her--at least for a time--and ere that time expired he should bear her away, far out of the reach of such danger.

It was for that opportunity he was now waiting. With, all the vigilance of his foes, he had no fear but that he could _steal_ his own mother and sister almost at any time. But another was to be the companion of their flight--another dear as they, and far more closely guarded!

For her only did he risk life daily--for her only did he sit hour after hour in that lone cave brooding over plans, and forming schemes of desperate peril.

Kept under lock and key--closely watched from morn to night, and night till morning--how was she to be rescued from such a situation? This was the problem upon which his mind now dwelt.

She had given him the assurance of her willingness to go. Oh! why had he not proposed instant flight? Why did he neglect that golden moment?

Why should either have thought of delay? That delay had been fatal-- might retard their purpose for months, for years--perhaps for ever!

But little cared Carlos for the anger of his enemies--little for the contempt in which he was held throughout the settlement--she alone was his care--his constant solicitude. His waking hours were all given to that one thought--how he would rescue, not himself, but his mistress.

No wonder he looked anxiously for the night--no wonder he rode with impatient eagerness towards that lone rendezvous on the Pecos.

Night had come again; and, leading his horse down the slope in front of the cave, he mounted and rode off toward the mouth of the canon. The dog Cibolo trotted in advance of him.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

The man-hunters had not long to wait. They had anticipated this. There was a moon which they had also expected. It was a bright moon at intervals, and then obscured--for minutes at a time--by the passage of dark clouds over the canopy.

There was no wind, however, and the air was perfectly still. The slightest noise could have been heard for a long distance in the atmosphere of that elevated region--so pure and light that it vibrated afar with the slightest concussion.

Sounds were heard, but they were not made by either the dogs or horses of the hunters--well-trained to silence--nor by the hunters themselves.

Both lay stretched in silence; or if they spoke, it was only in whispers and low mutterings.

The sounds were those of nature--such as it exists in that wild region.

The "snort" of the grizzly bear from the rocky ledge--the howling bark of the coyote--the "hoo-hoop" of the burrowing owl, and the shrill periodical cries of the bull-bat and goatsucker. For a while these were the only sounds that fell upon the ears of the ambushed hunters.

Half-an-hour elapsed, and during all that time never permitted their eyes or ears to rest for a moment. They gazed up the ravine, and at intervals glanced outwards upon the plain. There was a probability that their victim might be abroad--even in the day--and with such men no probability was allowed to pass without examination. Should it prove to be so, and he were to return at that time, it would frustrate the plan they had arranged. But for such a contingency the mulatto had conceived another--that was, to steal during the night as near the cave as possible--within rifle-shot if he could--wait until the guero should make his appearance in the morning, and _wing_ him with a bullet from his rifle--in the use of which weapon the yellow hunter was well skilled. To shoot the horse was another design. The horse once killed or crippled, the cibolero would be captured to a certainty; and both had made up their minds, in case a good opportunity offered, to despatch the noble animal.

These men knew a certain plan by which their victim could be killed or captured--that is, supposing they had been certain he was in the cave--a plan which could scarce have failed. But yet, for reasons of their own, they would not adopt it.

It would have been simple enough to have conducted a party of dragoons to the head of the pass, and there have stationed them, while another party entered the canon from below. As the sides of the ravine were impassable precipices, the retreat of the cibolero would have been thus cut off at both ends. True, to have reached the upper plain, without going through the ravine itself--and that, as we have seen would have defeated such a plan--would have cost a journey to the troop to be stationed above. But neither Vizcarra nor Roblado would have grudged either the time or the men to have rendered success thus sure. The mulatto and his dusky camarado knew all this perfectly, but to have caused such a plan to be put in execution was the last thought in their minds. Such a course would have been attended with but little peril to them, but it would have brought as little pay, for every trooper in the whole band would have claimed equal share in the promised reward. That would not be satisfactory to the hunters, whose heads and knowledge had furnished the means and the ways.

Neither entertained any idea of following such a course. Both were confident in their ability to effect their object without aid from any quarter.

From the time they had taken their station on the rock, half-an-hour was all they had to wait. At the end of that period the quick ears of both caught the sound of some one coming from the direction of the ravine.

They heard a horse's hoof striking upon loose shingle, and the rattling of the displaced pebbles. A debris of broken fragments filled the bottom of the ravine, brought there during rain-torrents. Over this ran the path. A horseman was coming down it.

"The guero!" muttered the mulatto; "be sure, boy Pepe."

"Trust you for a guess, brother Man'l: you were right about the tracks we first fell in with. The cave's his hiding-place to a certainty.

We'll have him sure when he comes back. _Carrai_! yonder he comes!"

As the zambo spake, a tall dark form was perceived approaching down the ravine. By the moon gleaming upon it, they could make out the figure of a horse and rider. They had no longer any doubt it was their intended victim.

"Brother Man'l," whispered the zambo, "suppose he passes near! why not bring down the horse? you can't miss in this fine light--both of us can aim at the horse; if we stop him we'll easily overtake the guero."

"Won't do, boy Pepe--not easily overtake guero afoot. Get off among rocks--hide for days--can't track _him_ afoot--be on his guard after-- give us trouble--old plan best--let pass--have him safe when he come back--have him sure."

"But Man'l--"

"Dam! no need for buts--always in a hurry, boy Pepe--have patience--no buts, no fear. See, now!"

This last exclamation was intended to point out to Pepe that his suggestion, even though a wise one, could not have been carried out, as the horseman was not going to pass within range of either rifle or escopeta.

It was plain he was heading down the middle of the canon, keeping equally distant from the sides, and this course would carry him out into the open plain two hundred yards from the ambush of the hunters.

So did it, for in a few moments he was opposite the spot where they lay, and at full that distance from them. A shot from a hunter's rifle would not have reached him, and the bullet of an escopeta would have been an uncertain messenger. Neither thought of firing, but lay in perfect silence, firmly holding their dogs down in the crevice of the rocks, and by gestures enjoining them to be still.

The horseman advanced, guiding his horse at a slow pace, and evidently observing caution as he went. While passing, the moon shone full upon him, and the bright points of his harness and arms were seen sparkling under her light. His fair complexion, too, could be distinguished easily, as also his fine erect figure, and the noble outlines of his horse.

"The guero!" muttered Manuel; "all right, boy Pepe!"

"What's yon ahead?" inquired the zambo.