fiery little horses with
consummate ease, and _making no prisoners_.

"Here is a chance for us; let us charge these fellows!" shouted Carmen, as
eight or nine of the enemy rode past us in full retreat; and without
pausing for a reply he went off at a gallop, followed by Gahra and myself;
for although I had no particular desire to attack men who were flying for
their lives and to whom I knew no quarter would be given, it was
impossible to hold back when my comrades were rushing into danger. Had the
Spaniards been less intent on getting away it would have fared ill with
us. As it was, we were all wounded. Gahra got a thrust through the arm,
Carmen a gash in the thigh; and as I gave one fellow the point in his
throat his spear pierced my hat and cut my head. If some of the patriots
had not come to the rescue our lives would have paid the forfeit of our
rashness.

The incident was witnessed by Mejia himself, who, when he recognized
Carmen, rode forward, greeted us warmly and remarked that we were just in
time.

"To be too late," answered Carmen, discontentedly, as he twisted a
handkerchief round his wounded thigh.

"Not much; and you have done your share. That was a bold charge you made.
And your friends? I don't think I have the pleasure of knowing them."

Carmen introduced us, and told him who I was.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, senor," he said, graciously,
"and I will give you of my best; but I can offer you only rough fare and
plenty of fighting. Will that content you?"

I bowed, and answered that I desired nothing better. The guerilla leader
was a man of striking appearance, tall, spare, and long limbed. The
contour of his face was Indian; he had the deep-set eyes, square jaws, and
lank hair of the abonguil race. But his eyes were blue, his hair was
flaxen, and his skin as fair as that of a pure-blooded Teuton. Mejia, as I
subsequently heard, was the son of a German father and a mestizma mother,
and prouder of his Indian than his European ancestry. It was probably for
this reason that he preferred being called Mejia rather than Morgenstern y
Mejia, his original appellation. His hereditary hatred of the Spaniards,
inflamed by a sense of personal wrong, was his ruling passion. He spared
none of the race (being enemies) who fell into his hands. Natives of the
country, especially those with Indian blood in their veins, he treated
more mercifully--when his men would let him, for they liked killing eve