e existence of a spring
that was near had more to do in guiding the preference of these "lords
of the prairies." The mesa, therefore, had for years been dangerous
ground, and little trodden by the idle curious. Possibly not one of the
heroes we saw before us had for years ventured so far out upon the
plains.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

A PLAN OF ESCAPE.

If our enemies were awed by our sudden disappearance, it was soon robbed
of its mysterious character. Our faces, and the dark barrels of our
rifles, visible around the edges of the white rock, must have dispelled
all ideas of the supernatural. Having hastily disposed of our horses,
we had placed ourselves thus--in case of a charge being made--though of
this we had no longer any great apprehension; and still less as we
watched the movements of our adversaries.

El Zorro continued for some time to fire his big gun--the bullets of
which we could dodge as easily as if they had been turnips hurled at
us--and the leaden missiles fell harmlessly at our feet.

Seeing this, the salteador at length ceased firing, and with another,
rode off in the direction of the settlements--no doubt sent on some
errand by Ijurra.

One pair of eyes was sufficient to watch the movements of the besiegers.
Garey undertook this duty, leaving Rube and myself free to think over
some plan of escape.

That we were not to be attacked was now certain. We had the choice,
then, of two alternatives--either to keep the position we were in till
thirst should force us to surrender, or attack _them_, and by a bold
_coup_ cut our way through their line.

As to the former, we well knew that thirst would soon compel us to
yield. Hunger we dreaded not. We had our knives, and before us a
plentiful stock of that food on which the prairie wanderer often
sustains life. "Horse-beef" we had all eaten, and could do so again;
but for the sister-appetite--thirst--we had made no provision. Our
gourd-canteens were empty--had been empty for hours--we were actually
pushing for the _mesa spring_ when the enemy first came in sight. We
were then athirst; but the excitement of the skirmish, with the play of
passion incident thereto, had augmented the appetite, and already were
we a prey to its keenest pangs. We mumbled as we talked, for each of us
was chewing the leaden bullet. Thirst we dreaded even more than our
armed enemy.

The other alternative was a desperate one--now more desperate than ever,
from the i