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Chapter 67

           Withanotherquickpulluponthereinshehaschangedhercourse,andridesalongtheedgeofit—socloseastoattracttheattentionofthe"Tejanos"below,andelicitfromZebStumpthatquaintexclamation—onlyhearduponextraordinaryoccasions—

           "GeesusGeehosofat!"

           Asifinanswertotheexclamationoftheoldhunter—orrathertotheinterrogatorywithwhichhehasfolloweditup—comesthecryofthestrangeequestrianwhohasshownherselfonthecliff.

           "LosIndios!LosIndios!"

           NoonewhohasspentthreedaysinSouthernTexascouldmistakethemeaningofthatphrase—whateverhisnativetongue.Itisthealarmcrywhich,forthreehundredyears,hasbeenheardalongthreethousandmilesoffrontier,inthreedifferentlanguages—"LesIndiens!LosIndios!theIndians!"

           Dullwouldbetheear,slowtheintellect,thatdidnotatoncecomprehendit,alongwiththesenseofitsassociateddanger.

           Tothosewhohearitatthejacaléitneedsnotranslation.Theyknowthatshe,whohasgivenutterancetoit,ispursuedbyIndians—ascertainasifthefacthadbeenannouncedintheirownSaxonvernacular.

           Theyhavescarcetimetotranslateitintothis—eveninthought—whenthesamevoiceasecondtimesalutestheirears:—"Tejanos!Cavalleros!saveme!saveme!LosIndios!Iamchasedbyatroop.Theyarebehindme—close—close—"

           Herspeech,thoughcontinued,isnolongerhearddistinctly.Itisnolongerrequiredtoexplainwhatispassingupontheplainabove.

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