It would be a piece of luck for us to find water in the cave, for it would add greatly to our security, as we should not be obliged to lead our horses, perhaps, a long distance to drink."
"I will assure myself at once if there is any truth in the supposition. The noise proceeds from that passage, so let us follow it. As for our men they can wait for us here; we have nothing to fear now, for if the pirates or the Indians were ambuscaded to surprise us, they would not have waited so long before doing so, and hence the assistance of our peons is unnecessary."
The capataz shook his head doubtfully.
"Hum," he said, "the Indians are very clever, mi amo; and who knows what diabolical projects those redskins revolve in their minds? I believe it would be more prudent to let the peons accompany us."
"Nonsense," said his master, "it is unnecessary; we are two resolute and well-armed men; we have nothing to fear, I tell you. Besides, if, against all probability, we are attacked, our men will hear the noise of the conflict, will run to our help, and will be at our side in an instant."
"It is not very probable, I grant, that we have any danger to apprehend; still I considered it my duty as a devoted servant, mi amo, to warn you, because in the event of Indians being hidden in these passages, of whose windings we are ignorant, we should be caught like rats in a trap, with no possibility of escape. Two men, however brave they may be, are incapable of resisting twenty or thirty enemies, and you know that Indians never attack white men save when they are almost certain of success."
These words seemed to produce a certain impression on the leader of the caravan. He remained silent for a moment, apparently reflecting seriously on what he had heard, but he soon raised his head, and shook it resolutely.
"Nonsense! I do not believe in the danger you seem to apprehend; after all, if it really exist, it will be welcome. Wait here, my men, and be ready to join us at the first signal," he added, addressing the peons, who answered by rising and collecting in the middle of the hall.
Their master left them a torch to light them during his exploration, took the other, and turning to Carnero, said, "Let us go."
They then entered the passage. It was very narrow, and ran downwards with a steep incline, so that the two men, who were unacquainted with its windings, were obliged to walk with the most serious attention, and carefully examining all the spots they passed.
The further they proceeded, the more distinct the sound of water became; it was evident that at a very short distance from the spot where they were, perhaps but a few steps, there ran one of those subterranean streams so frequently found in natural caverns, and which are generally rivers swallowed up by an earthquake.
All at once, without being warned by the slightest sound, the leader of the caravan felt himself seized round the waist, his torch was snatched roughly from his hand, and extinguished against a rock, and himself thrown down and securely bound, before he was able to attempt the slightest resistance, so sudden and well calculated had the attack been. Carnero had been thrown down at the same time as his master, and bound.
"Cowards, demons!" the Mexican yelled, as he made a superhuman effort to rise and burst his bonds; "show yourself, at least, so that I may know with whom I have to deal."
"Silence! General Don Sebastian Guerrero," a rough voice said to him, whose accent made him start, in spite of all his courage; "resign yourself to your fate, for you have fallen into the power of men who will not liberate you till they have had a thorough explanation with you."
General Guerrero, whom the readers of the "Indian Chief" will doubtless remember, made a movement of impotent rage, but he was silent; he perceived that the originators of the snare of which he was a victim were implacable enemies, as they had not feared to call him by his name, and more formidable than the pirates of the prairies or the redskins, with whom he at first thought he had to deal. Moreover, he thought that the darkness that surrounded him would soon cease, and then he would see his enemies face to face, and recognize them.
But his expectations were deceived. When his conquerors had borne him to the hall, where his peons were disarmed and guarded by peons, he saw, by the light of the torch that faintly illumined the hall, that among the men who surrounded him few wore the Mexican costume, it was true, but had their faces hidden by a piece of black crape, forming a species of mask, and so well fastened round their necks, that it was entirely impossible to recognize them.
"What do these men want with me?" he muttered as he let his head fall on his chest sadly.
"Patience!" said the man who had already spoken, and who overheard the general's remark, "you will soon know."
CHAPTER VII.
THE EXPLANATION
There was a short delay, during which the conquerors appeared to be consulting together in a low voice; while doing so, an Indian chief, who was no other than the Jester, entered the hall, and uttered a few words in Comanche.
The general and the capataz were again picked up by the redskins, and at a sign from one of the masked men, transported on to the voladero. The appearance of the terrace had entirely changed during the general's short absence, and offered at this moment a most singular and picturesque scene.
One hundred and fifty to two hundred Indians, mostly armed with guns, and ranged in good order round the terrace, the centre of which remained free, faced the cavern, having among them the disarmed Mexicans, the baggage, horses, and mules of the caravan.
The tent still stood solitary in the middle of what Was to have been the encampment; but the curtain Was raised, and a horseman was standing in front of it, as if to defend the entrance, and protect the precious articles it contained from pillage.
At the moment when the party emerged from the cave, and appeared on the terrace, the horsemen drawn up at the entrance of the defile opened out to the right and left, leaving a passage for a small troop of men dressed in hunters' garb, and whom it was easy to recognize as white men, by the colour of their skin, although it was bronzed and freckled by the sun; two ladies, mounted on ambling mules, were in the midst of them.
This troop of strangers was composed of eight persons altogether, leading with them two baggage mules. As the men were disarmed, and walked on foot amid some fifty Indian horsemen, they had, in all probability, been surprised by a party of redskins, and made prisoners in some skilfully-arranged ambuscade.
The two ladies, one of whom was of a certain age while the other appeared scarce eighteen, and who might be supposed closely related, through the resemblance of their features, were treated with an exquisite politeness they were far from expecting by the Indians, and conducted to the tent, which they were requested to enter. The curtain was then lowered, to conceal them from the glances of the Indians, whose expression, although respectful, must necessarily be disagreeable to them.
The new comers, at a signal from their conductors, ranged themselves with the other prisoners; they were powerful men with marked features, whom the Indians had probably not given a chance to fight, otherwise they looked as if they would sooner be killed than yield.
They displayed neither fear nor depression, but their flashing looks and frowning brows showed that though they silently submitted to their fate, they were far from being resigned, and would eagerly seize the first opportunity to regain the liberty of which they had been so treacherously deprived.
Still, in spite of the determination they had doubtless formed to remain indifferent as to what took place around them, they soon felt themselves interested more than they liked in the strange drama which they involuntarily witnessed, and whose gloomy preparations were of a nature to arouse their curiosity
