ht in
the report that they had met the cibolero on their way across the Llano
Estacado--that he was accompanied by two women and several men with
pack-mules carrying provisions--that he had told them (the Indians) he
was on his way for a long journey--in fact, to the other side of the
Great Plains.

This information was definite, and no doubt correct. Carlos had been
often heard to express his intention of crossing over to the country of
the Americanos. He was now gone thither--most likely to settle upon the
banks of the Mississippi. He was already far beyond the reach of
pursuit. They would see him no more--as it was not likely he would ever
again show his face in the settlements of New Mexico.

Months rolled past. Beyond the report of the Comanches, nothing was
heard of Carlos or his people. Although neither he nor his were
forgotten, yet they had ceased to be generally talked of. Other affairs
occupied the minds of the people of San Ildefonso; and there had lately
arisen one or two matters of high interest--almost sufficient to eclipse
the memory of the noted outlaw.

The settlement had been threatened by an invasion from the Yutas--which
would have taken place, had not the Yutas, just at the time, been
themselves attacked and beaten by another tribe of savages! This defeat
had prevented their invasion of the valley--at least for that season,
but they had excited fears for the future.

Another terror had stirred San Ildefonso of late--a threatened revolt of
the Tagnos, the _Indios mansos_, or _tame_ Indians, who formed the
majority of the population. Their brethren in several other settlements
had risen, and succeeded in casting off the Spanish yoke.

It was natural that those of San Ildefonso should dream of similar
action, and conspire.

But their conspiracy was nipped in the bud by the vigilance of the
authorities. The leaders were arrested, tried, condemned, and shot.
Their scalps were hung over the gateway of the Presidio, as a warning to
their dusky compatriots, who were thus reduced to complete submission!

These tragic occurrences had done much to obliterate from the memory of
all the cibolero and his deeds. True, there were some of San Ildefonso
who, with good cause, still remembered both; but the crowd had ceased to
think of either him or his. All had heard and believed that the outlaw
had long ago crossed the Great Plains, and was now safe under the
protection of those of his own race,