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The heat of the tropic night and the strenuous gallop had covered El Capitan with a lather of sweat. The reins upon his neck dripped with it. The gauntlets with which Chesterton held them were wet. As he raised the match-box it slipped from his fingers and fell noiselessly in the trail. With an exclamation he dropped to the road and to his knees, and groping in the dust began an eager search.
"'Out by Picacho!''Scout capitan! Who on earth does he mean?" asked Archer, with a sudden fear at heart. Once again, stumbling question, much gesticulation, many words in strange gutturals and a name. Then the final report: "He means Apache-Mohave 'Tonio!"
Baba was in such gay heart, she could not be wholly sad. The horse seemed fairly rollicking with satisfaction at being once more on the move. Capitan, too, was gay. He had found the canon dull, spite of its refreshing shade and cool water. He longed for sheep. He did not understand this inactivity.
"What's stopping you?" asked Bruno impatiently. "Do you know what fight comes next? Is it worth while?" "If you think that way, no! Haven't you heard? The bulik of Capitan Basilio's against Capitan Tiago's lásak. According to the law the lásak must win." "Ah, the lásak! I'd bet on it, too. But let's be sure first."
Don Cosme promised to follow the hint with alacrity, and we prepared to take our departure from the rancho. "I will give you a guide, Senor Capitan; you will find my people with the mulada. Please compel them to lasso the cattle for you. You will obtain what you want in the corral. Adios, Senores!" "Farewell, Don Cosme!" "A dios, Capitan! adios! adios!"
The night wind sighed across the desert and there was a chill in the air as the moon mounted higher in the heavens; an ideal night for travel. José awoke with a start and sitting bolt upright on the ground, gazed about him with a dazed, bewildered air, trying to collect his scattered senses. "Capitan!" he cried, regarding him intently.
"The capitan pacha has erected a bloody but a great monument to himself," says be, when Hassan has finished his narrative. "Yet it is questionable whether I shall be benefited by it. It would, perhaps, have been wiser to reconcile ourselves with the Mamelukes, than to excite them to new anger." "Highness, reconciliation with the Mamelukes is impossible," replies Hassan.
As Ramona stepped out, he gave one short, quick bark, and came bounding down. "Holy Virgin, I am lost!" thought Ramona; but, crouching on the ground, she quickly opened her net, and as Capitan came towards her, gave him a piece of meat, fondling and caressing him.
The luck that had accompanied him throughout the campaign had held until the end. Had he been forced to wait for a transport, each hour would have meant a month of torment, an arid, wasted place in his life. As it was, with each eager stride of El Capitan, his little Porto Rican pony, he was brought closer to her.
Do you realize that you are absolutely in my power? How do you like it?" "It was not you who captured us, Baxter." "Well, it amounts to the same thing, eh, Capitan Villaire?" and the big boy turned to the French brigand, who nodded. "We collared you nicely." "What of Sam and Tom?" asked Randolph Rover anxiously. "Ve will not speak of zem udders," broke in Captain Villaire.
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