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Neither has a knowledge of the enemy that has made such havoc among their men; only an instinct or intuition that the blow has been struck by those terrible Tejanos, for the shots heard were the cracks of rifles, and the shouts, still continued, are not Indian yells nor Mexican vivas, but the rough hurrahs of the Anglo-Saxon.
He's one of my muleteers I'd sent as a messenger to the Tenawa town. He returns to tell me there's no Horned Lizard in existence, and only a remnant of his tribe. Himself, with the best of his braves, has gone to the happy hunting grounds; not voluntarily, but sent thither by a party of Tejanos who fell foul of them on a foray." "That's a strange tale," rejoins Roblez, adding, "And Barbato?"
Rennie has already said that’s all right with him." "Whoee!" Anse muffled one of the old spirited war yells into a husky whisper. "You an’ me, we’re goin’ to do it! Ain’t nobody can put hobbles on a pair of Tejanos as has their chewin’ teeth fast on th’ bit!" It was something to think about, all right. But future chances should not take a man’s mind off the job immediately ahead.
This was hailed with a sally by the very men who, only one hour ago, were shouting themselves hoarse with the cries of "Viva el general, Viva Santa Anna!" And on they scrambled, talking as before, one of them informing his comrades with a laugh that if "los Tejanos" could lay their hands upon "El Cojo", they, the Mexicans, would have to look out for a new president. They had now passed us.
They were in too great distress about the death of their chief, and the chastisement they had received. They were in fear that the Tejanos would pursue them to their town; and were making preparations to flee from it when Pedrillo and myself came away. Pobre Pedrillito!" Uraga no longer stays listening to the mock humanity of his whining messenger. No more does he think of the drowned Pedrillo.
He could not." "Could not! Why?" "They ere not there to receive it. They are no longer in this world neither the Horned Lizard nor Barbato. Senor Coronel, the Tenawas have met with a great misfortune. They've had a fight with a party of Tejanos. The chief is killed, Barbato is killed, and nearly half of their braves.
"Lissen, hombre, me I'm from West Texas, an' that theah's Comanche country, leastwise it was Comanche country 'fore we Tejanos moved in. Now Comanches, they're an unfriendly people, 'bout the unfriendliest Injuns, 'cept 'Paches, a man can meet up with. An' they have them some neat little ways of makin' a man talk, or rather yell, his lungs out.
"You mean when Santa Anna came trottin' in with his tail high, thinkin' as how he could talk harsh to some of us Tejanos?" "No, later than that when some of us went down to talk harsh in Mexico." "Sure. Only I don't recollect that theah powder-burnin' contest, m'self. M'pa went ... got him these heah fancy hoss ticklers theah."
The Kentuckian crouched, alert, Anse beside him now, both listening for any suspicious sound. At last they huddled into their clothes, hurried back to the bunkhouse. Bartolomé was there waiting for them. "You Tejanos—" There was no pretense of friendliness in his hail. "The patrón will see you, pronto!" They went, tugging their clothing into order as they paused outside the door.
"The kid's gonna be all right?" "Doc hopes so, if he takes it easy." "Ever feel like this heah war's runnin' down?" "I don't see how we can keep on much longer." "Some of the boys are talkin' Texas. Git us down theah an' we can go off be a republic again. Wouldn't be the first time the Tejanos stood up all by themselves. Supposin' this fightin' heah stops ... you ridin' for Texas?" "I might."
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