"Sure of it. They attacked my house almost at the same time. They had previously driven off my cattle, and for that, one of my people was on the look-out. He saw them approach; and, before they got near, we were shut up and ready to defend ourselves. Finding this, they soon went off. Fearing for your people, I stole out as soon as they were gone, and came here. When I arrived the roof was blazing, and your mother lying senseless in the doorway. Rosita was gone! _Madre de Dios_! she was gone!" And the young ranchero wept afresh. "Don Juan!" said Carlos, in a firm voice; "you have been a friend--a brother--to me and mine. I know you suffer as much as I do. Let there be no tears! See! mine are dried up! I weep no more--perhaps sleep not--till Rosita is rescued or revenged. Let us to business, then! Tell me all that is known about these Indians--and quick, Don Juan! I have a keen appetite for your news!" The ranchero detailed the various rumours that had been afloat for the three or four days preceding--as well as the actual occurrences,--how the Indians had been first seen upon the upper plain; their encounter with the shepherds and the driving off of the sheep; their appearance in the valley, and their raid upon his own cattle--for it was his _ganaderia_ that had suffered--and then the after circumstances already known to Carlos. He also informed the latter of the activity shown by the troops; how they had followed that morning upon the trail of the robbers; how he had desired to accompany them with some of his people; and how the request was refused by the Comandante. "Refused?" exclaimed Carlos, interrogatively. "Yes," replied Don Juan; "he said we would only hinder the troops! I fancy his motive was his chagrin with me. He does not like me ever since the fiesta." "Well! what then?" "The troops returned but an hour ago. They report that they followed the trail as far as the Pecos, where it crossed, striking direct for the Llano Estacado; and, as the Indians had evidently gone off to the great plains, it would have been useless to attempt pursuing them farther. So they alleged. "The people," continued Don Juan, "will be only too glad that the savages have gone away, and will trouble themselves no farther about it. I have been trying to get up a party to follow them, but not one would venture. Hopeless as it was, I intended a pursuit with my own people; but, thank God! _you_ have come!" "Ay, pray God it may not be too late to follow their trail. But no; only last night at midnight, you say? There's been neither rain nor high wind--it will be fresh as dew; and if ever hound--Ha! where's Cibolo?" "At my house, the dog is. He was lost, this morning; we thought he had been killed or carried off; but at midday my people found him by the rancho here, covered with mud, and bleeding where he had received the prick of a spear. We think the Indians must have taken him along, and that he escaped from them on the road."