“Then we may be in time.  Obed, we’ll push for the north with every ounce of strength we have.”

“That’s just what we’ll do.  Courage defeats a multitude of sins.”

They traveled now for nearly a week in a direction north slightly by west, suffering at times from heat, and once from a tropical rain storm that deluged them.  While the rain poured upon them, they kept their serapes wrapped around their powder, and let their bodies take the worst.  The rain, for a while, was very cold, but the powder was precious, and after a while the sun came out, drying and warming them again.  They were compelled to swim two narrow but deep rivers, a most difficult task, as they had arms, ammunition and food to carry with them.

They noticed stretches of forest again, and passed both scattered houses and villages.  Their knowledge of Spanish and their rifles were their protection.  But in some places the people seemed to care nothing either about Santa Anna or those who might oppose him.  They were content to lead lives in a region which furnished food almost of its own accord.  Just before approaching one of these villages Ned shot another jaguar.  It was not black like the first, nor so large.  It was about five feet in length, and yellowish in color, with a splendid skin, which, at Obed’s suggestion, they removed for purposes of barter.  It was a wise idea, as they traded it in the village for two large water bottles.  The people there were so indifferent to their identity that they sat in the plaza in the evening, and watched the young people dance the fandango.

It was only a crude little village in the Mexican wilderness.  The people were more Indian than Mexican.  There was not much melody in their music, and not much rhythm in their dance, but they were human beings, enjoying themselves after labor and without fear.  Both Ned and Obed, sitting outside the circle of light with their rifles across their knees, felt it.  The sense of human companionship, even of strangers, was very pleasant.  The music and the glowing faces appealed very strongly to the boy.  Silent, thoughtful, and compelled by circumstances to live a hard life, he was nevertheless young with all the freshness of youth.  Obed saw, and he felt a deep sympathy for this lad who had wrapped himself like a younger brother around his heart.

“Just you wait, Ned,” he said, “until we reach our own people across the Rio Grande.  Then we’ll have lots of friends and they’ll be friends all the stronger, because you will be the first to bring them news of the treacherous attack that is to be made upon them.”

“If we get there in time,” said Ned, “and, Obed, I am beginning to believe that we will get there in time.”

They passed for hunters, and that night they slept in the village, where they received kindness, and departed again the next morning on the long, long journey that always led to the north.

CHAPTER X