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Updated: June 9, 2025
Their leader, a slender man with dusty gold lace banding his high collar, came directly to Rennie. "Don Cazar." His Spanish was a flood in which Drew was lost almost immediately, but Anse listened with parted lips and then translated a quick account. "This here’s th’ Coronel. He an’ his men was bushwhacked.
How far are they ahead?" asked one of the officers. "The main body are quite a league ahead by this time. The pack-mules and arrieros passed us about fifteen minutes ago." "Gracias! Who are you, and whither may you be wending, señores?" "I am Sancho Mencar, at your service, señor coronel, a Government messenger, carrying despatches to General Salazar, at La Victoria.
"Yeah, always supposin’ that," Nye agreed. "Magnífico!" Drew glanced over Shiloh’s back to the speaker. Coronel Oliveri paused in the doorway of the stable to study the stallion with almost exuberant admiration mirrored on his dark and mobile features. "Don Cazar"—the Mexican officer raised a gloved hand in a beckoning gesture—"por favor, Excellency ... this one, he is of the Blood?"
He boldly begins his letter with the old story about "indications of spices" and gold "in incredible quantities," with a great deal of "moreover" and "besides," and a bold, pompous, pathetic "I will undertake"; and then he gets away from that subject by wordy deviations, so that to one reading his letter it really might seem as though the true business of the expedition was to provide Coronel, Mosen Pedro, Gaspar, Beltran, Gil Garcia, and the rest of them with work and wages.
"Will you try another, Senor Coronel?" asked Dona Joaquina, with a smile. "No, ma'am, thank you," replied the major, and then a sort of internal subterraneous curse could be heard in his throat. The conversation continued in English, and we were highly amused at the attempts of our new acquaintances to express themselves in that language.
We were fairly astonished at the profusion of luxuries that came from no one knew where. "Come, gentlemen, try a glass of curacoa. Senor Coronel, allow me the pleasure." "Sir, your very good health." "Senor Coronel, would you prefer a glass of Majorca?" "Thank you." "Or perhaps you would choose Pedro Ximenes. I have some very old Pedro Ximenes." "Either, my dear Don Cosme either."
"El Coronel Miranda, Commandante del Distrito Militario de Albuquerque, Nuevo Mexico." Its contents, also in Spanish, translated read thus: "My dear Colonel Miranda, I am about to carry out the promise made to you at our parting. I have my mercantile enterprise in a forward state of readiness for a start over the plains.
How was Horned Lizard to know himself that is, in time to have sent word to you? In truth, mio Coronel, I am, as you say, in a quandary about all that. I cannot even guess at the explanation." "This would give it to you, if you could read; but I know you cannot, mio teniente; your education has been sadly neglected. Never mind, I shall read it for you."
"And anyone could pass out below?" "They could, Senor Coronel." "We require to observe caution, Roblez," says Uraga, addressing himself to the adjutant; "else we may have made our long journey for nothing. 'Twill never do to enter the cage and find the birds flown. How far is it to the point where the river runs below?" The question is put to the peon. "Cinco leguas, Senor; not less.
Oliveri gave what sounded to Drew like an exaggerated sigh. "Señor, you have spoiled my day. How can one look at lesser animals when one has seen such a treasure? Don Cazar, the Range harbors so many treasures—Oro, and now this one. How is he named, señor?" "Shiloh." "Shiloh ..." The Coronel made a sibilant hiss of the word. "An Indio name?" "No, a battle." Drew prepared to lead out. "In the war."
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