These mescal-drinking
raiders were not scouts. It was notorious how easily they could
be surprised or ambushed. Mostly they were ignorant, thick-skulled
peons. They were wonderful horsemen, and could go long without
food or water; but they had not other accomplishments or attributes
calculated to help them in desert warfare. They had poor sight,
poor hearing, poor judgment, and when excited they resembled
crazed ants running wild.
Gale saw two Indians on burros come riding up the other side
of the knoll upon which the adobe house stood; and apparently
they were not aware of the presence of the Mexicans,
for they came on up the path. One Indian was a Papago. The other,
striking in appearance for other reasons than that he seemed to be
about to fall from the burro, Gale took to be a Yaqui. These
travelers had absolutely nothing for an outfit except a blanket
and a half-empty bag. They came over the knoll and down the path
toward the well, turned a corner of the house, and completely
surprised the raiders.
Gale heard a short, shrill cry, strangely high and wild, and this
came from one of the Indians. It was answered by hoarse shouts.
Then the leader of the trio, the Mexican who packed a gun, pulled
it and fired point-blank. He missed once--and again. At the third
shot the Papago shrieked and tumbled off his burro to fall in a
heap. The other Indian swayed, as if the taking away of the
support lent by his comrade had brought collapse, and with the
fourth shot he, too, slipped to the ground.
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