There was a rapid tread of hoofs, and two lancers, with their long weapons leveled, galloped straight at them.  Obed leaped to one side, but Ned, so startled that he lost command of himself, stopped and stood still.  He saw one of the men bearing down upon him, the steel of the lance head glittering in the sunlight, and instinctively he closed his eyes.  He heard a sharp crack, something seemed to whistle before his face, and then came a cry which he knew was the death cry of a man.  He had shut his eyes only for a moment, and when he opened them he saw the Mexican falling to the ground, where he lay motionless across his lance.  Obed White stood near, and his rifle yet smoked.  Ned instantly recovered himself, and fired at the second lancer who, turning about, galloped away with a wound in his shoulder.

“Come Ned,” cried Obed White.  “There is a time for all things, and it is time for us to get away from here as fast as we can.”

He could not be too quick for Ned, who ran swiftly, avoiding another look at the silent and motionless figure on the ground.  The riderless horse was crashing about among the trees.  From a point three or four hundred yards behind there came the sound of much shouting.  Ned thought it to be an outburst of anger caused by the return of the wounded lancer.

“We stung ’em a little,” he panted.

“We did,” said Obed White.  “Remember that when you go out to slay you may be slain.  But, Ned, we must reload.”

They curved about, and darting into a thick clump of bushes put fresh charges in their rifles.  Ned was trembling from excitement and exertion, but his anger was beginning to rise.  There must always come a time when the hunted beast will turn and rend if it can.  Ned had been the hunted, now he wanted to become the hunter.  Obed and he had beaten off the first attack.  There were plenty more bullets where the other two had come from, and he was eager to use them.  He peered out of the bushes, his face red, his eyes alight, his rifle ready for instant use.  But Obed placed one hand on his shoulder: 

“Gently, Ned, gently!” he said.  “We can’t fight an entire Mexican army, but if we slip away to some good position we can beat off any little band that may find us.”

It was evident that the Mexicans had lost the trail, for the time being.  They were still seeking the quarry but with much noise and confusion.  A trumpet was blown as if more help were needed.  Officers shouted orders to men, and men shouted to one another.  Several shots were fired, apparently at imaginary objects in the bushes.

“While they’re running about and bumping into one another we’ll regain a little of our lost breath which we’ll need badly later,” said Obed.  “We can watch from here, and when they begin to approach then it’s up and away again.”

Those were precious minutes.  The ground was not good for the lancers who usually advanced in mass, and, after the fall of one man and the wounding of another, the soldiers on foot were not very zealous in searching the thickets.  The breathing of the two fugitives became easy and regular once more.  The roofs of their mouths were no longer hot and dry, and their limbs did not tremble from excessive exertion.  Ned had turned his eyes from the Mexicans and was examining the country in the other direction.