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Updated: June 9, 2025
Rosita's mother was indulging in a siesta; and Cibolo, if he saw anything amiss, said nothing about it to any one, but wagged his tail, and looked good-humouredly at Don Juan, as if he entirely approved of the latter's conduct. When Vizcarra reached his sumptuous quarters, the first thing he did was to call for wine. It was brought, and he drank freely and with fierce determination.
Carlos, once on the road, spurred his horse into gallop, and dashed boldly forward to the great gate of the Presidio. The dog Cibolo followed, keeping close up to the heels of his horse. "By the Virgin, it is he!" exclaimed Roblado, with a look of astonishment and alarm. "The fellow himself, as I live!" "I knew it! I knew it!" shrieked Vizcarra. "I saw him on the cliff: it was no vision!"
The Indians who had harried the sheep and cattle who had attacked the hacienda of Don Juan who had fired the rancho and carried off Rosita were Colonel Vizcarra, his officer Captain Roblado, his sergeant Gomez, and a soldier named Jose another minion of his confidence and will.
His wound was a mere face wound. There was not the slightest danger; but the "medico" of the place, a young practitioner, was not sufficiently master of his art to give him that assurance, and for some hours Vizcarra remained in anything but blissful ignorance of his fate. The garrison doctor had died but a short time before, and his place was not yet supplied.
He would be driven to the wild plains hunted like the wolf or the savage bison perhaps taken and slain! Bitter were her reflections. When should she see him again? Maybe, never! During all this time Vizcarra lay groaning upon his couch not so much with pain as fear, for the fear of death still haunted him.
Roblado's arrival brought relief to Vizcarra, as he lay chafing and fretting. Their conversation was, of course, upon the late occurrence, and Roblado gave his account of the pursuit. "And do you really think," inquired the Comandante, "that the fellow had a party of savages with him?" "No!" answered Roblado.
He had lain about an hour on the banqueta, when the door opened, and the two officers, Vizcarra and Roblado, stepped within the cell. They were accompanied by Gomez. The prisoner believed that his hour was come. They were going to lead him forth to execution. He was wrong. That was not their design. Far different. They had come to gloat over his misery. Their visit was to be a short one.
He sprang forward, and looked in the direction indicated. A horseman, covered with sweat and dust, was galloping up the road. He was near enough for Roblado to distinguish his features. Vizcarra had already distinguished them. It was Carlos the cibolero! The announcement made by the cibolero on the bluff startled Don Juan, as if a shot had passed through him.
"Roblado!" cried the Comandante, grasping his captain by the arm, "I never was more in earnest in my life. Tell me the plan to get her back without making a noise about it. Tell me quick, for I cannot bear this horrid feeling any longer." "Why, then," began Roblado, "we must have another travestie of Indians we must " He was suddenly interrupted. A short, sharp groan escaped from Vizcarra.
The brutal-looking trooper walked into the room, and, from his appearance, it was plain he had just dismounted from a ride. "Well, sergeant?" said Vizcarra, as the man drew near; "speak out! Captain Roblado may know what you have to say." "The party, colonel, lives in the very last house down the valley, full ten miles from here.
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