The Valiant Runaways [2]
the extreme elegance which
always characterised Roldan. In summer he wore calico small-clothes, in
winter unmatched articles of velvet or cloth, and an old sombrero
without silver.
"Ay! yi!" he gasped. "Ay, Roldan! Holy Mary! But you are right. You
always are. And so clever! I will go. Sure, sure. Come now, or they will
think we conspire."
Roldan dismounted, and was warmly greeted by the family. The girls rose
and courtesied, blushing with the coquetry of their race. Roldan cared
little for girls at any time, and to-night was doubly abstracted, his
ear straining at every distant hoof-beat. He retired as early as he
politely could, but not to sleep. Indeed, he became so nervous that he
could not wait until the family slept.
"Better to brave them, Adan," he said to his more phlegmatic friend,
"than that sergeant, should he get here before we leave. Come, come, let
us go."
They dropped out of the window and stole to the corral where the riding
horses were kept. It was surrounded by a high wall, and the gate was
barred with iron; but they managed to remove the bars without noise,
saddled fresh horses and led them forth and onward for a half mile, then
mounted and were off like the wind.
They knew the country down the coast on the beaten road, but they dared
not follow this, and struck inland. The air was now of an agreeable
warmth; the full moon was so low and brilliant that Roldan called out he
could count the bristling hairs on a coyote's back.
In less than two hours they were climbing a mountain trail leading
through a dense redwood forest. In these depths the moon's rays were
scattered into mere flecks dropping here and there through the thick
interlacing boughs of the giant trees. Those boughs were a hundred feet
and more above their heads. About them was a dense underforest of young
redwoods, pines, and great ferns; and swarming over all luxuriant and
poisonous creepers.
They were silent for a time. The redwood forests are very quiet and
awesome. At night one hears but the rush of the mountain torrent, the
cry of a panther or a coyote, the low sigh of wind in the treetops.
"Ay, Roldan," exclaimed Adan, suddenly. "Think did we meet a bear?"
"We probably shall," said Roldan, coolly. "These forests have many
'grizzlies,' as the Americans call them."
"But what should we do, Roldan?"
"Why, kill him, surely."
"Have you ever seen one?"
"Never."
"But it is said that they are very large, my friend, larger than you or
I."
"Perhaps. Keep quiet. I like to hear the forest talk."
"What strange fancies you have, Roldan. A forest cannot talk."
"Oh--hush."
"Ay, yi, Roldan! Roldan!"
The horses were standing upright, neighing pitifully. Adan gave a hoarse
gurgle and crossed himself.
"The adventures have begun," said Roldan.
In a great swath of moonlight on a ledge some yards above them, standing
on his hind legs and swinging his forepaws goodnaturedly, was an immense
grey bear. Suddenly he extended his arms sociably, almost
affectionately.
"We cannot retreat down that steep trail," said Roldan, rapidly. "He
could follow faster and the horses would fall. To the left! in the
brush, quick!--a bear cannot run sideways on a mountain."
The boys dug their spurs into the trembling mustangs, who responded with
a snort of pain and plunged into the thicket. Only the bold skill of the
riders saved them from pitching sidewise down the steep slope, despite
the brush, for they were unshod and their knees had weakened.
But the grizzly, alas! was still master of the situation. In less than a
moment the boys saw him lumbering along above them. He evidently had
possession of a trail, more or less level.
"Dios de mi alma!" cried Adan. "If he gets ahead of us he will come down
and meet us somewhere. We shall be lost--eaten even as a cat eats a
mouse, a coyote a chicken."
"You will look well lining the dark corridors of the bear, my friend.
Your yellow jacket with those large red roses, which would make a bull
sweat, would hang like tapestry
always characterised Roldan. In summer he wore calico small-clothes, in
winter unmatched articles of velvet or cloth, and an old sombrero
without silver.
"Ay! yi!" he gasped. "Ay, Roldan! Holy Mary! But you are right. You
always are. And so clever! I will go. Sure, sure. Come now, or they will
think we conspire."
Roldan dismounted, and was warmly greeted by the family. The girls rose
and courtesied, blushing with the coquetry of their race. Roldan cared
little for girls at any time, and to-night was doubly abstracted, his
ear straining at every distant hoof-beat. He retired as early as he
politely could, but not to sleep. Indeed, he became so nervous that he
could not wait until the family slept.
"Better to brave them, Adan," he said to his more phlegmatic friend,
"than that sergeant, should he get here before we leave. Come, come, let
us go."
They dropped out of the window and stole to the corral where the riding
horses were kept. It was surrounded by a high wall, and the gate was
barred with iron; but they managed to remove the bars without noise,
saddled fresh horses and led them forth and onward for a half mile, then
mounted and were off like the wind.
They knew the country down the coast on the beaten road, but they dared
not follow this, and struck inland. The air was now of an agreeable
warmth; the full moon was so low and brilliant that Roldan called out he
could count the bristling hairs on a coyote's back.
In less than two hours they were climbing a mountain trail leading
through a dense redwood forest. In these depths the moon's rays were
scattered into mere flecks dropping here and there through the thick
interlacing boughs of the giant trees. Those boughs were a hundred feet
and more above their heads. About them was a dense underforest of young
redwoods, pines, and great ferns; and swarming over all luxuriant and
poisonous creepers.
They were silent for a time. The redwood forests are very quiet and
awesome. At night one hears but the rush of the mountain torrent, the
cry of a panther or a coyote, the low sigh of wind in the treetops.
"Ay, Roldan," exclaimed Adan, suddenly. "Think did we meet a bear?"
"We probably shall," said Roldan, coolly. "These forests have many
'grizzlies,' as the Americans call them."
"But what should we do, Roldan?"
"Why, kill him, surely."
"Have you ever seen one?"
"Never."
"But it is said that they are very large, my friend, larger than you or
I."
"Perhaps. Keep quiet. I like to hear the forest talk."
"What strange fancies you have, Roldan. A forest cannot talk."
"Oh--hush."
"Ay, yi, Roldan! Roldan!"
The horses were standing upright, neighing pitifully. Adan gave a hoarse
gurgle and crossed himself.
"The adventures have begun," said Roldan.
In a great swath of moonlight on a ledge some yards above them, standing
on his hind legs and swinging his forepaws goodnaturedly, was an immense
grey bear. Suddenly he extended his arms sociably, almost
affectionately.
"We cannot retreat down that steep trail," said Roldan, rapidly. "He
could follow faster and the horses would fall. To the left! in the
brush, quick!--a bear cannot run sideways on a mountain."
The boys dug their spurs into the trembling mustangs, who responded with
a snort of pain and plunged into the thicket. Only the bold skill of the
riders saved them from pitching sidewise down the steep slope, despite
the brush, for they were unshod and their knees had weakened.
But the grizzly, alas! was still master of the situation. In less than a
moment the boys saw him lumbering along above them. He evidently had
possession of a trail, more or less level.
"Dios de mi alma!" cried Adan. "If he gets ahead of us he will come down
and meet us somewhere. We shall be lost--eaten even as a cat eats a
mouse, a coyote a chicken."
"You will look well lining the dark corridors of the bear, my friend.
Your yellow jacket with those large red roses, which would make a bull
sweat, would hang like tapestry