All but the chestnut stallion. At the last he escaped
us; he stopped on a little knoll and took a farewell look at his band.
"There were four old United States cavalry horses among our captive band
of mustangs, gray with age and worthless--no telling where they came
from. We clamped a mule shoe over the pasterns of the younger horses,
tied toggles to the others, and the next morning set out on our return
to the settlements."
Under his promise the old ranchero had the camp astir over an hour
before dawn. Horses were brought in from picket ropes, and divided into
two squads, Pasquale leading off to the windward of where the band was
located at dusk previous. The rest of the men followed Uncle Lance to
complete the leeward side of the circle. The location of the _manada_,
had been described as between a small hill covered with Spanish bayonet
on one hand, and a _zacahuiste_ flat nearly a mile distant on the other,
both well-known landmarks. As we rode out and approached the location,
we dropped a man every half mile until the hill and adjoining salt flat
had been surrounded. We had divided what rifles the ranch owned between
the two squads, so that each side of the circle was armed with four
guns.
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