e sticking up above
their crowns, both had their heads now covered with simple straw hats;
while sleeveless coats of coarse woollen stuff, with stripes running
transversely--_tilmas_--shrouded their shoulders, their limbs having
free play in white cotton drawers of ample width. A leathern belt, and
apron of reddish-coloured sheepskin, tanned, completed the costume of an
_arriero_ of the humbler class--the _mozo_, or assistant.

But the change in the two other men--the chief and him addressed as
Roblez--was of a far more striking kind. They had entered the cave as
Indians, warriors of the first rank, plumed, painted, and adorned with
all the devices and insignia of savage heraldry. They came out of it as
white men, wearing the costume of well-to-do rancheros--or rather that
of town traders--broad glazed hats upon their heads, cloth jackets and
trousers--the latter having the seats and insides of the legs fended
with a lining of stamped leather; boots with heavy spurs upon their
feet, crape sashes around the waist, machetes strapped along the flaps
of their saddles, and seraphs resting folded over the croup, gave the
finishing touch to their travelling equipment. These, with the well
appointed _atajo_ of mules, made the party one of peaceful merchants
transporting their merchandise from town to town.

On coming out of the cave, the leader, looking fresh and bright from his
change of toilet and late purification of his skin, glanced up towards
the sky, as if to consult the sun as to the hour. At the same time he
drew a gold watch from his vest pocket, and looked also at that.

"We'll be just in the right time, Roblez," he said. "Six hours yet
before sunset. That will get us out into the valley, and in the river
road. We're not likely to meet any one after nightfall in these days of
Indian alarms. Four more will bring us to Albuquerque, long after the
sleepy townsfolk have gone to bed. We've let it go late enough, anyhow,
and mustn't delay here any longer. Look well to your mules, _mozos!
Vamonos_!"

At the word all started together down the gorge, the speaker, as before,
leading the way, Roblez next, and the mozos with their laden mules
stringing out in the rear.

Soon after, they re-entered the mountain defile, and, once more heading
north-westward, silently continued on for the valley of the Rio del
Norte. Their road, as before, led tortuously through canons and rugged
ravines--no road at all, but a mere