"True, we might--there are none of them over well disposed to the outlaw--so it is said. But I fear there is none of them fit, that is, none who combines both the skill and the courage necessary for this purpose--for both are necessary. They hate the fellow enough, but they fear him as well. There is _one_ whom I have heard of,--in fact know something of him,--who would be the very man for us. He not only would not fear an encounter with the cibolero, but would hardly shun one with the devil; and, as for his skill in all sorts of Indian craft, his reputation among his kind is even greater than that of Carlos himself." "Who is he?" "I should say there are two of them, for the two always go together; one is a mulatto, who has formerly been a slave among the Americanos. He is now a runaway, and therefore hates everything that reminds him of his former masters. Among other souvenirs, as I am told, he hates our cibolero with a good stout hatred. This springs partly from the feeling already mentioned, and partly from the rivalry of hunter-fame. So much in our favour. The _alter ego_ of the mulatto is a man of somewhat kindred race, a _zambo_ from the coast near Matamoras or Tampico How he strayed this way no one knows, but it is a good while ago, and the mulatto and he have for long been shadows of each other; live together, hunt together, and fight for one another. Both are powerful men, and cunning as strong; but the mulatto is the zambo's master in everything, villainy not excepted. Neither is troubled with scruples. They would be the very men for our purpose." "And why not get them at once?" "Therein lies the difficulty--unfortunately they are not here at present. They are off upon a hunt. They are hangers-on of the mission, occasionally employed by the padres in procuring venison and other game. "Now it seems that the stomachs of our good abstemious fathers have lately taken a fancy to buffalo tongue cured in a certain way, which can only be done when the animal is fresh killed. In order to procure this delicacy they have sent these hunters to the buffalo range." "How long have they been gone?--can you tell?" "Several weeks--long before the return of our cibolero." "It is possible they may be on the way back. Is it not?" "I think it quite probable, but I shall ride over to the mission this very hour and inquire." "Do so; it would be well if we could secure them. A brace of fellows, such as you describe these to be, would be worth our whole command. Lose no time." "I shall not waste a minute," Roblado replied, and leaning over the wall he called out, "Hola! Jose! my horse there!"