He for whom they are waiting has accomplished the descent of the slope, and is passing under the shadow of the cypress.
“Abajo las armas! A tierra!” (“Down with your weapons.
To the ground!”) cries El Coyote, rushing forward and seizing the bridle, while the other three fling themselves upon the man who is seated in the saddle.
There is no resistance, either by struggle or blow; no blade drawn; no shot discharged: not even a word spoken in protest!
They see a man standing upright in the stirrups; they lay their hands upon limbs that feel solid flesh and bone, and yet seem insensible to the touch!
The horse alone shows resistance.
He rears upon his hind legs, makes ground backward, and draws his captors after him. He carries them into the light, where the moon is shining outside the shadow.
Merciful heaven! what does it mean?
His captors let go their hold, and fall back with a simultaneous shout.
It is a scream of wild terror!
Not another instant do they stay under the cypress; but commence retreating at top speed towards the thicket where their own steeds have been left tied.
Mounting in mad haste, they ride rapidly away.
They have seen that which has already stricken terror into hearts more courageous than theirs—a horseman without a head!
Chapter Forty Five. A Trail gone Blind.
Was it a phantom?
Surely it could not be human?
So questioned El Coyote and his terrified companions.
So, too, had the scared Galwegian interrogated himself, until his mind, clouded by repeated appeals to the demijohn, became temporarily relieved of the terror.
In a similar strain had run the thoughts of more than a hundred others, to whom the headless horseman had shown himself—the party of searchers who accompanied the major.
It was at an earlier hour, and a point in the prairie five miles farther east, that to these the weird figure had made itself manifest.
Looking westward, with the sun-glare in their eyes, they had seen only its shape, and nothing more—at least nothing to connect it with Maurice the mustanger.
Viewing it from the west, with the sun at his back, the Galwegian had seen enough to make out a resemblance to his master—if not an absolute identification.
Under the light of the moon the four Mexicans, who knew Maurice Gerald by sight, had arrived at a similar conclusion.
If the impression made upon the servant was one of the wildest awe, equally had it stricken the conspirators.
The searchers, though less frightened by the strange phenomenon, were none the less puzzled to explain it.
Up to the instant of its disappearance no explanation had been attempted—save that jocularly conveyed in the bizarre speech of the borderer.
“What do you make of it, gentlemen?” said the major, addressing those that had clustered around him: “I confess it mystifies me.”
“An Indian trick?” suggested one. “Some decoy to draw us into an ambuscade?”
“A most unlikely lure, then;” remarked another; “certainly the last that would attract me.”
“I don’t think it’s Indian,” said the major; “I don’t know what to think. What’s your opinion of it, Spangler?”
The tracker shook his head, as if equally uncertain.
“Do you think it’s an Indian in disguise?” urged the officer, pressing him for an answer.
“I know no more than yourself, major,” replied he. “It should be somethin’ of that kind: for what else can it be?
It must eyther be a man, or a dummy!”
“That’s it—a dummy!” cried several, evidently relieved by his hypothesis.
“Whatsomever it is—man, dummy, or devil,” said the frontiersman, who had already pronounced upon it, “thar’s no reason why we should be frightened from followin’ its trail. Has it left any, I wonder?”
“If it has,” replied Spangler, “we’ll soon see. Ours goes the same way—so fur as can be judged from here.
Shall we move forr’ad, major?”
“By all means.
We must not be turned from our purpose by a trifle like that.
Forward!”
The horsemen again advanced—some of them not without a show of reluctance.
There were among them men, who, if left to themselves, would have taken the back track.
Of this number was Calhoun, who, from the first moment of sighting the strange apparition, had shown signs of affright even beyond the rest of his companions.
His eyes had suddenly assumed an unnatural glassiness; his lips were white as ashes; while his drooping jaw laid bare two rows of teeth, which he appeared with difficulty to restrain from chattering!
But for the universal confusion, his wild manner might have been observed.
So long as the singular form was in sight, there were eyes only for it; and when it had at length disappeared, and the party advanced along the trail, the ex-captain hung back, riding unobserved among the rearmost.
The tracker had guessed aright. The spot upon which the ghostly shape had for the moment stood still, lay direct upon the trail they were already taking up.
But, as if to prove the apparition a spirit, on reaching the place there were no tracks to be seen!
The explanation, however, was altogether natural.