savages were charging the
guerrilla!

The moon shot forth from the cloud. There was no longer a doubt. The
wild-horses were mounted; each carried an Indian naked to the waist--his
painted body glaring red in the moonlight, and terrible to behold.

By this time the Mexicans had all mounted and faced, towards the
unexpected foe, but with evident signs of irresolution in their ranks.
They would never stand the charge--no, never. So said Garey; and he was
right.

The savages had advanced within less than a hundred paces of the Mexican
line, when they were observed to pull suddenly up. It was but a
momentary halt--just time enough to enable them to mark the formation of
their foes, and send a flight of arrows into their midst. That done,
they dashed onward, uttering their wild yells, and brandishing their
long spears.

The guerrilleros only waited to discharge their carbines and escopettes;
they did not think of reloading.

Most of them flung away their guns as soon as they had fired, and the
retreat began. The whole troop turned its back upon the enemy, and
spurring their horses to a gallop, came sweeping round the base of the
mesa in headlong flight.

The Indians, uttering their demoniac yells, followed as fast. They were
rendered more furious, that their hated foe was likely to escape them.
The latter were indebted to us for having put them upon the alert. But
for that circumstance, the Indians would have charged them while
dismounted, and far different might have been their fate. Mounted and
ready for flight, most of them would probably get clear.

The moment we saw the direction the chase was about to take, Garey and I
rushed across the summit to the other side.

On arriving at the brow of the precipice, our view was perfect, and we
could see both parties as they passed along, its base directly below us.
Both were riding in straggling clumps, and scarcely two hundred paces
separated the rearmost of the pursued from the headmost of the pursuers.
The latter still uttered their war-cry, while the former now rode in
silence--their breath bound, and their voices hushed in the deathlike
stillness of terror.

All at once a cry arose from the guerrilla--short, quick, and
despairing--the voice of some new consternation; at the same moment the
whole troop were seen to pull up.

We looked for the cause of this extraordinary conduct; our eyes and ears
both guided us to the explanation.

From the opposite di