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Updated: June 11, 2025
Soon, however, the line of the adventurers, broken for an instant, reformed before a group of Indians who were rushing like wild beasts into the middle of the camp. Oroche and Baraja left the point which they were still defending, and found themselves face to face with their enemies, this time with nothing to separate them.
In a remote chamber of the hacienda were lodged the four adventurers, Pedro Diaz, Oroche, Cuchillo, and Baraja. These gentlemen were not slow in becoming acquainted with one another, and this acquaintance was soon of the most familiar character.
From this the players occasionally helped themselves as a finale to the elegant supper they had eaten and to which Cuchillo, Baraja, and Oroche had done ample honour. Notwithstanding the frequent bumpers which Cuchillo had quaffed, he appeared to be in the worst of humour, and a prey to the most violent passions.
Pedro Diaz appeared to be merely an involuntary spectator; while Oroche, seated at one corner of the table, his right leg across his left, his elbow resting on his knee the favourite attitude of mandolin players accompanied his own voice as he sang the boleros and fandangos then most in vogue among the inhabitants of the coast region.
"The thirst of gold has caught you also, Pedro Diaz?" asked Don Augustin, smiling significantly. "No, thank God!" replied Diaz, "nothing of the sort. Heave the searching for gold to experienced gambusinos, such as the Senor Oroche here. No you know well that I have no other passion than hatred for the ferocious savages who have done so much ill towards me and mine.
It was concluded by their resolving to follow the horsemen as rapidly as possible along the road which these had taken the road to Tubac. After having uselessly discharged their carbines several times, from too great a distance for the balls to be dangerous, Oroche and Baraja had rejoined Cuchillo.
At the entrance to the tent lay a man, like a dog watching over his master; and from his long hair and the guitar by the side of his rifle, it was easy to recognise Oroche. His time seemed to be divided between the contemplation of a heaven glittering with stars, and the care of keeping up a fire of green wood, the smoke of which rose in a vertical column silvered by the moon.
His daughter sat on his left hand, while Don Estevan was placed upon the right. After them, the Senator and the chaplain, and Pedro Diaz. At the lower end were seated Tiburcio, Cuchillo, Baraja and Oroche. The chaplain pronounced the benedicite.
"Before answering you, Senor Don Augustin, permit me to introduce to you the king of gambusinos and prince of musicians, the Senor Don Diego Oroche, who scents a placer of gold as a hound would a deer, and who plays upon the mandolin as only he can play." The individual presented under the name of Oroche, solemnly saluted the haciendado.
"I know not, but he is dead." "And Pedro Diaz that man of such noble and disinterested feeling?" "He, like Don Estevan, is no more of this world." "And his friends Cuchillo, Oroche, and Baraja?" "Dead as well as Pedro Diaz, all dead except but with your leave, Senor, I shall commence my narrative at an earlier period. It is necessary that you should know all." "We shall listen to you patiently."
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