Part 12 (1/2)

”Nothing more simple; and I only wonder at not having thought of it before. After all, that would have been useless, for only this day have I discovered the thing to be possible.”

”We long to hear what it is.”

”Well, then, senores, it's but to give them the slip. Going out by the back door, while they are so carefully guarding the front. That can be done by our letting one down the cliff--two, if need be.”

”But where?”

”Where the _carnero_ went over.”

”What! five hundred feet? Impossible! We have not rope enough to reach half the distance.”

”We don't need rope to reach much more than a third of it.”

”Indeed! Explain yourself, Don Pedro.”

”I will, your wors.h.i.+p, and it is thus. I've examined the cliff carefully, where the sheep went over. There are ledges at intervals; it is true not wide, but broad enough for the animal to have dropped upon and stuck. They can cling to the rocks like squirrels or cats. Some of the ledges run downwards, then zigzag into others, also with a downward slope; and the ram must have followed these, now and then making a plunge, where it became necessary, to alight on his hoofs or horns, as the case might be. Anyhow, he got safe to the bottom, as we know, and where it went down, so may we.”

There is a pause of silence, all looking pleased for the words of the _gambusino_ have resuscitated hopes that had almost died out. They can see the possibility he speaks of, their only doubt and drawback being the fear they may not have rope enough.

”It seems but a question of that,” says Don Estevan, as if speaking reflectingly to himself.

The others are also considering, each trying to recall how much and how many of their trail-ropes were brought up in that hasty _debendade_ from their camp below.

”_Por Dios_! your wors.h.i.+p,” rejoins the _gambusino_, ”it is no question of that whatever. We have the materials to make cords enough, not only to go down the cliff, but all round the mountain. Miles, if it were needed!”

”What materials?” demanded several of the party, mystified.

”_Mira_!” exclaims the _gambusino_. ”This!” He starts up from a bundle of dry _mezcal_-leaves on which he has been seated, pus.h.i.+ng it before him with his foot.

All comprehend him now, knowing that the fibre of these is a flax, or rather hemp, capable of being worked into thread, cloth, or cordage; and they know that on the _mesa_ is an unlimited supply of it.

”No question of rope, _caballeros_; only the time it will take us to manufacture it. And with men such as you, used to such gearing, that should not be long.”

”It shall not,” respond all. ”We'll work night and day till it be done.”

”One day, I take it, will be enough--that to-morrow. And if luck attend us, by this time to-morrow night we may have our messengers on the way, safe beyond pursuit of these accursed redskins.”

Some more details are discussed maturing their plans for the rope-making. Then all retire to rest, this night with more hopeful antic.i.p.ations than they have had for many preceding.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A YOUTHFUL VOLUNTEER.

Another day dawns, and as the earliest rays of the sun light up the Cerro Perdido, an unusual bustle is observed in the camp of the besieged. Men are busy collecting the leaves of the _mezcal_-plant, those that are withered and dry from having their corms cut out days before; fortunately there are many of these lying all around. Other men, armed with rudely-shaped mallets, beat them against the trunks of trees, to separate the fibre from the now desiccated pulp; while still others are twisting this into threads, by a further process to be converted into thick ropes.

It is found that after all not so much will be needed; several la.s.soes had been brought up, tied round the bundles of goods; and with these and other odds and ends of cordage, a rope can be put together full two hundred feet in length, strong enough to sustain the weight of any man.

So, long before night the lowering apparatus is ready, and, as before, they await the darkness to make use of it.

Meanwhile Don Estevan, the two Tresillians, and Vicente spend most of the morning on the cliff where the bighorn went over, surveying it from every possible point, taking the bearings of its ledges, and estimating their distances from one another. They are, as the _gambusino_ had represented them, a succession of very narrow benches, but wide enough for a man to find footing; some horizontal, others with a slope downwards, then a zigzag bringing them lower, till within a hundred feet from the cliff's base the _facade_ of rocks shows sheer and clear. Down to this point all will be easy; and beyond it they antic.i.p.ate little difficulty, now that they are sure of having sufficient rope.