The Valiant Runaways [41]
himself, knowing that he was comparatively safe, as bears
prefer horse-meat to man's. He had no sooner got his feet free of the
boots than the mustang leaped to his feet and fled like a hare, dragging
the lariat in a straight line after him.
Roldan was alone, the bear not ten yards away. The rest of his party
were a mile and more behind. No one apparently had noticed his flight
with the solitary bear. The light was uncertain and the excitement over
there intense.
Roldan took to his agile young heels. But the bear gathered himself and
leaped, not once but several times. There was no doubt that his blood
was up, and that he meant a duel to the death. Roldan turned with a
catching of what breath was left in him. He mechanically drew his knife
from its pocket and flourished it at the advancing bear. Bruin cared as
little for steel as for rope. He came on with a mighty growl.
Roldan gave one rapid glance about. There was not even a tree in sight.
From his point of departure an object seemed approaching, but it was too
dark to tell as yet whether it was a horseman or another bear. The brute
was almost on him, panting mightily. All the senses between Roldan's
skeleton and his skin concentrated in the determination to live. He
sprang forward and plunged his long knife into the protruding injected
eye of the bear, then leaped aside, his dripping knife in his hand, and
danced about the maddened beast with the agility of a modern prize-
fighter. The bear, too, danced, as if obsessed by some infernal music;
and the skipping, and leaping, and dodging, and waltzing of these two
would have been ludicrous had it not been a matter of life and horrid
death. Through it all Roldan was vaguely conscious of approaching
hoofbeats, but there was no room in his consciousness for hope or
despair. He was not even aware that he was panting as if his lungs and
throat were bursting, nor even that his vision was a trifle blurred from
constant and rapid change of focus and surcharged veins. But he executed
his dance of life as unerringly as if fresh from his bed and bath. The
bear, a clumsy creature at best, and streaming and blinded with his
blood, was slackening a little, but there was life in him yet, and twice
its measure of vengeance. Suddenly he lay down, but became so abruptly
inert that Roldan was not deceived. Instead of putting himself within
reach of those waiting arms he fled with all his strength. It was then
that he knew how fully that strength was spent: his lungs and legs
refused to work with his will and impulse after the first hundred yards,
and he fell to the ground with a sensation of utter indifference,
longing only for physical rest. He heard the bear plunging after, the
loud sound of a horse's hoofs, mingled with a single shout, then gave up
his consciousness.
He awoke in a few moments. Adan was bending over him, propping his head.
"The bear?" he demanded, ashamed of the pitiful quality of his voice.
"I came just in time to rope him," replied Adan. "You were a fool, my
friend, to go off alone like that--but very brave," he added hastily,
knowing that Roldan did not like criticism.
"You are quite right. And this is the second time you and your lariat
have saved me. Perhaps it may be the other way some time."
"Likely it will if you go on hunting for adventures as the old women
hunt for fleas of a night. Do you feel able to get on my horse? It will
carry the two of us."
"If I were not equal to that much I should find another bear and go to
sleep in his arms."
XVIII
At last the night arrived for the gold quest. The guests had gone.
Roldan, Adan, and Rafael were alone on their side of the great house.
They waited, kicking their heels together with leashed impatience, until
eleven o'clock. The family and servants of Casa Encarnacion went to bed
at ten o'clock, but it was the custom of Don Tiburcio to go the rounds a
half or three quarters of an hour later and see that his strict laws
were as strictly obeyed. To-night, when he opened the doors of the
prefer horse-meat to man's. He had no sooner got his feet free of the
boots than the mustang leaped to his feet and fled like a hare, dragging
the lariat in a straight line after him.
Roldan was alone, the bear not ten yards away. The rest of his party
were a mile and more behind. No one apparently had noticed his flight
with the solitary bear. The light was uncertain and the excitement over
there intense.
Roldan took to his agile young heels. But the bear gathered himself and
leaped, not once but several times. There was no doubt that his blood
was up, and that he meant a duel to the death. Roldan turned with a
catching of what breath was left in him. He mechanically drew his knife
from its pocket and flourished it at the advancing bear. Bruin cared as
little for steel as for rope. He came on with a mighty growl.
Roldan gave one rapid glance about. There was not even a tree in sight.
From his point of departure an object seemed approaching, but it was too
dark to tell as yet whether it was a horseman or another bear. The brute
was almost on him, panting mightily. All the senses between Roldan's
skeleton and his skin concentrated in the determination to live. He
sprang forward and plunged his long knife into the protruding injected
eye of the bear, then leaped aside, his dripping knife in his hand, and
danced about the maddened beast with the agility of a modern prize-
fighter. The bear, too, danced, as if obsessed by some infernal music;
and the skipping, and leaping, and dodging, and waltzing of these two
would have been ludicrous had it not been a matter of life and horrid
death. Through it all Roldan was vaguely conscious of approaching
hoofbeats, but there was no room in his consciousness for hope or
despair. He was not even aware that he was panting as if his lungs and
throat were bursting, nor even that his vision was a trifle blurred from
constant and rapid change of focus and surcharged veins. But he executed
his dance of life as unerringly as if fresh from his bed and bath. The
bear, a clumsy creature at best, and streaming and blinded with his
blood, was slackening a little, but there was life in him yet, and twice
its measure of vengeance. Suddenly he lay down, but became so abruptly
inert that Roldan was not deceived. Instead of putting himself within
reach of those waiting arms he fled with all his strength. It was then
that he knew how fully that strength was spent: his lungs and legs
refused to work with his will and impulse after the first hundred yards,
and he fell to the ground with a sensation of utter indifference,
longing only for physical rest. He heard the bear plunging after, the
loud sound of a horse's hoofs, mingled with a single shout, then gave up
his consciousness.
He awoke in a few moments. Adan was bending over him, propping his head.
"The bear?" he demanded, ashamed of the pitiful quality of his voice.
"I came just in time to rope him," replied Adan. "You were a fool, my
friend, to go off alone like that--but very brave," he added hastily,
knowing that Roldan did not like criticism.
"You are quite right. And this is the second time you and your lariat
have saved me. Perhaps it may be the other way some time."
"Likely it will if you go on hunting for adventures as the old women
hunt for fleas of a night. Do you feel able to get on my horse? It will
carry the two of us."
"If I were not equal to that much I should find another bear and go to
sleep in his arms."
XVIII
At last the night arrived for the gold quest. The guests had gone.
Roldan, Adan, and Rafael were alone on their side of the great house.
They waited, kicking their heels together with leashed impatience, until
eleven o'clock. The family and servants of Casa Encarnacion went to bed
at ten o'clock, but it was the custom of Don Tiburcio to go the rounds a
half or three quarters of an hour later and see that his strict laws
were as strictly obeyed. To-night, when he opened the doors of the