e spilled so wantonly.

"No, captain," rejoined the same speaker, "we won't fire, but we'll git
them, if we kin, 'ithout it. Boys, follow me down this way."

And the man was about guiding his horse in among the loose rocks, so as
to pass unperceived between the dwarfs and the mountain.

But the brutal fellow was frustrated in his design; for at that moment
El Sol and his sister appeared in the opening, and their brilliant
habiliments caught the eyes of the Diggers. Like startled deer they
sprang to their feet, and ran, or rather flew, toward the foot of the
mountain. The hunters galloped to intercept them, but they were too
late. Before they could come up, the Diggers had dived into the
crevices of the rocks, or were seen climbing like chamois along the
cliffs, far out of reach.

One of the hunters only--Sanchez--succeeded in making a capture. His
victim had reached a high ledge, and was scrambling along it, when the
lasso of the bull-fighter settled round his neck. The next moment he
was plucked out into the air, and fell with a "cranch" upon the rocks!

I rode forward to look at him. He was dead. He had been crushed by the
fall; in fact, mangled to a shapeless mass, and exhibited a most
loathsome and hideous sight.

The unfeeling hunter recked not of this. With a coarse jest he stooped
over the body; and severing the scalp, stuck it, reeking and bloody,
behind the waist of his calzoneros!

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

DACOMA.

We all now hurried forward to the spring, and, dismounting, turned our
horses' heads to the water, leaving them to drink at will. We had no
fear of their running away.

Our own thirst required slaking as much as theirs; and, crowding into
the branch, we poured the cold water down our throats in cupfuls. We
felt as though we should never be surfeited; but another appetite,
equally strong, lured us away from the spring; and we ran over the
camp-ground in search of the means to gratify it. We scattered the
coyotes and white wolves with our shouts, and drove them with missiles
from the ground.

We were about stooping to pick up the dust-covered morsels, when a
strange exclamation from one of the hunters caused us to look hastily
round.

"Malaray, camarados; mira el arco!"

The Mexican who uttered these words stood pointing to an object that lay
upon the ground at his feet. We ran up to ascertain what it was.

"Caspita!" again ejaculated the man. "It is a white bow!"