through
the night. He had only an escort of twenty men at his quarters, but
would not wait for more. He sent, however, messengers to Peneleo, the
Indian chief then ranging in the foothills, directing him to bring
his warriors to the uplands and meet him at the lake called the Eye of
Water, near whose shores the frontier fort of Pequena was built.

"We crossed the lowlands with that untired rapidity of movement which
had made Gaspar Ruiz' raids so famous. We followed the lower valleys
up to their precipitous heads. The ride was not without its dangers.
A cornice road on a perpendicular wall of basalt wound itself around a
buttressing rock, and at last we emerged from the gloom of a deep gorge
upon the upland of Peena.

"It was a plain of green wiry grass and thin flowering bushes; but high
above our heads patches of snow hung in the folds and crevices of the
great walls of rock. The little lake was as round as a staring eye. The
garrison of the fort were just driving in their small herd of cattle
when we appeared. Then the great wooden gates swung to, and that
four-square enclosure of broad blackened stakes pointed at the top
and barely hiding the grass roofs of the huts inside, seemed deserted,
empty, without a single soul.

"But when summoned to surrender, by a man who at Gaspar Ruiz' order rode
fearlessly forward, those inside answered by a volley which rolled him
and his horse over. I heard Ruiz by my side grind his teeth. 'It does
not matter,' he said. 'Now you go.'

"Torn and faded as its rags were, the vestiges of my uniform were
recognised, and I was allowed to approach within speaking distance; and
then I had to wait, because a voice clamouring through a loophole with
joy and astonishment would not allow me to place a word. It was the
voice of Major Pajol, an old friend. He, like my other comrades, had
thought me killed a long time ago.

"'Put spurs to your horse, man!' he yelled, in the greatest excitement;
'we will swing the gate open for you.'

"I let the reins fall out of my hand and shook my head. 'I am on my
honour,' I cried.

"'To him!' he shouted, with infinite disgust.'

"'He promises you your life.'

"'Our life is our own. And do you, Santierra, advise us to surrender to
that rastrero?'

"'No!' I shouted. 'But he wants his wife and child, and he can cut you
off from water.'

"'Then she would be the first to suffer. You may tell him that. Look
here--this is all nonsense: we shall dash out