and upward against the
rocks to a small platform, nearly halfway up the cliff. Several bright
uniforms flashed upon the lens. The platform was shaded with palms; and
I could see that this party had halted a moment for the purpose (as I
then conjectured) of allowing the foremost fugitives to pioneer the
wooded bottom. I was right. As soon as these had crossed the stream,
and made some way in the jungle along its banks, the former continued
their descent; and now I saw what caused my pulse to beat feverishly--
that one of these carried a dark object on his back. An object?--a
man--and that man could be no other than the lame tyrant of Mexico.

I can scarcely describe my feelings at this moment. The young hunter
who sees noble game--a bear, a panther, a buffalo--within reach of his
rifle for the first time, might feel as I did. I hated this man, as all
honest men must and should hate a cowardly despot. During our short
campaign I had heard many a well-authenticated story of his base
villainy, and I believe at that moment I would have willingly parted
with my hand to have brought him as near to me as he appeared under the
field of the telescope. I thought I could even distinguish the lines,
deep furrowed by guilt, on his dark, malice-marked face; and, as I
became sure of the identity, I drew back my head, cautioning my
companions to do the same.

Now was the time for action, and, putting up the glass, we crawled back
to our comrades. I had learned from Raoul that the dark line which I
had noticed before was, as I had conjectured, the canon of a small
arroyo, heavily timbered, and forming a gap or pass that led to the Plan
River. It was five miles distant, instead of three. So much the
better, and with a quick, crouching gait we were once more upon our way.
I had told my comrades enough to make some of them as eager as I. Many
of them would have given half a life for a shot at game like that. Not
a few of them remembered they had lost a brother on the plains of
Goliad, or at the fortress of the Alamo.

The Rangers, moreover, had been chafing "all day for a fight", and now,
so unexpectedly led at something like it, they were just in the humour.
They moved as one man, and the five miles that lay between us and the
gorge were soon passed to the rear. We reached it, I think, in about
half an hour. Considering the steep pass through which the enemy must
come, we knew there was a breathing-time, though not long,