We will leave the Comanche warriors for a while, and let them glide like snakes through the prairie grass, and cross the Río Grande del Norte to enter Mexican territory. We will take up our narrative again a few hours later, at the moment when Doña Emilia, her daughter, and Don Melchior, attracted by the firing of Running Water's warriors, rushed into the canyon, and by their mere presence caused the Indians that inconceivable panic which made them fly in every direction, and abandon their coveted prey when they were on the point of grasping it. After pursuing for some time the fugitives, to whom terror seemed to give wings, Doña Emilia prepared to return to the count and his comrades, when all at once she fancied she heard desperate cries in a wood a little distance off, which she had passed unnoticed in the heat of the pursuit. "What is the meaning of that?" Doña Emilia asked, as she checked her steed. "Can there be any unhappy white men engaged with these demons on this side?" At the same moment the wind bore down to them the sound of several shots. "It appears like a serious action," Don Melchior answered. "Still I cannot understand the cause, for, with the exception of the count, there are not, to my knowledge, any white men travelling at present on this border." "You must be mistaken, my friend, and hark, the noise is increasing; forward, forward; who knows whether we may not have the good fortune to save the life of some poor wretch. Those red demons fled so rapidly that we could not catch up a single one." "Mother," Doña Diana timidly observed, "would it not be better, before venturing again among the savages, to make certain with whom we have to deal, and the number of foes we may have to confront?" "What good will that do, daughter?" Doña Emilia answered drily; "Those men are savages, I think that we do not require to know more." "Permit me to insist, mother; I know not why, but for some days past, sad forebodings involuntarily pursue me; I fear that we have traitors about us, and that they are watching us. I am afraid! Alas! Is it fitting for women," she murmured feebly, "to wage war thus?" Doña Emilia gave the maiden an angry glance. "Pigeon heart," she said with feverish energy, "who keeps you here? return to the hacienda; I will be sufficient." "I fear a snare, mother." "A snare? Do you forget the terror with which my presence inspires these Pagans? You have long had a proof of it," she continued with a contemptuous smile; "but come, daughter, accompany me this time, and I swear that I will not again force you to serve my hatred."