Goaded to frenzy by these cries, Carmelita's peons flooded across the intervening space and fell on Stanislaus, who abandoned to their fate the sortie detail he had thrown forward. With such men as he could muster he sped, with the peonas, out of the cañon into the broken country edging Calaveras Valley. Here his people seemed to scatter. Hoof-tracks led aimlessly to every quarter of the compass. To solve the riddle the hacienda peons ran over the ground and nosed it like hounds. No one could tell in which direction to go in succor of the peonas. From his saddle old Enrico peered at the signs which to the ordinary observer indicated that Stanislaus and his people had come in compact body to this spot, then, under centrifugal impulse, had departed hither and yon. In his observings the man moved a little away from Carmelita, then returned. "Señorita doña, I'm proud of the boys; they're all right--that onslaught--line lasted them about as long as a box of mice would a dozen terriers--but they can't read a trail." "Then, you be eyes for us, Enrico," pleaded Carmelita. "Soon the sun leaves, and search to-morrow will be useless." Enrico dismounted, slowly crawled on knees and hands, examining the ground minutely. He descended into a swiftly running stream, and studied the rocky bed through the clear water. Finally, he crept up the other side and limped away into the forest. It seemed an age before he came back. Long shadows, forerunners of approaching night, were measuring the hills beyond. At last he was in sight, exultation lighting his face and hastening his uncertain steps. "Señorita doña," he exclaimed, "Stanislaus is near here, on foot, and consequently at our mercy." "How so, Enrico?" quickly from Carmelita. "His horses left that stream riderless, as their plunging gait shows; though they went into it under bridle, as is plain from the even measure of their step. The foot impression of men's hard-leather soles lies in that creek-bed. Stanislaus and many with him wear Mission shoes of tanned cattle-skin. Furthermore," holding up a knot of ribbon, "this adornment was caught on a low-sweeping madrona branch, and these," showing several wet deer-skin moccasins inlaid with glass beads, "I plucked from crevices where the bottom of the stream is rocky. The scoundrelly renegades cannot be far away. Let us rush down on them, having caution, though, for ambuscade." "They are bound for the cave two miles farther down the cañon, and they sought to deceive us into following riderless horses. We must cut them off before they reach the shelter," cried Carmelita.