3 Years Among the Comanches (Memoirs). Nelson Lee
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has, runs back and unexpectedly finds it in the path.
A party was now armed and organized, determined to follow the back track of Prince until the marauders were discovered. We followed it all day, and for a long distance, but finally struck upon the trail of a great drove of wild horses, where it was entirely lost, and further pursuit necessarily abandoned.
The following day I rode over to St. Geronimo Creek, six miles from Seguin. On this creek is situated the hacienda of the Nevarros, the most influential and wealthy family in that region, the head of which was then a prisoner in Mexico, having been taken with the Santa Fe Expedition. On the way I met Marcos Beremindo, the brother-in-law of the famous Bowie killed at the Alamo, and son of the old governor of Coahuila and Texas, under Mexican confederacy. During the wars his family had become reduced in its circumstances, and retired from Monclova, the capital of the provinces above named, to an indifferent ranche adjoining the Nevarros.
When I met him, he was on the way to Seguin to inform its citizens that Christolphe Rublo was in the neighborhood. He had learned from a garrulous Mexican that he had passed the previous night with his father, and that his band was secreted in a chapparal, twelve miles distant, halfway between St. Geronimo and St. Marks. I needed no further intelligence to confirm the suspicion already entertained as to who were the authors of the theft at Seguin.
It fell to my lot, in the course of a mysterious providence, to put Christolphe Rublo deliberately to death; and this fact furnishes me sufficient excuse for lingering briefly in the progress of this narrative to describe the manner of man he was.
He had been born and grew to manhood on the Nevarro estate, his father before him having from early life been its overseer. Under Mexican laws, he had passed, in the lapse of time, from the position of a citizen to that of a peon—a position differing but slightly from the condition of a slave. The difference is simply this—the latter, for a given consideration, may be passed directly from one owner to another, while the former can be transferred only by an assignment of the debt he owes. The redemption of a peon from his obligation, however, is an event far less likely to occur than a slave’s escape from bondage.
From boyhood, Christolphe had been the terror of his neighborhood. He was possessed of an attractive person, and nature had generously endowed him with extraordinary talents, yet he was wanting altogether in every sentiment of morality. He was cunning as he was brave, treacherous as he was unscrupulous and implacable. His name had become synonymous with thievery and plunder, and there was no end to the stories of his daring and desperate adventures. At length, he crowned a lifelong infamy and filled to overflowing the measure of popular indignation by the commission of an unprovoked and wanton murder.
One of the most honored citizens of Seguin was an American gentleman by the name of Hance. During the harvest season he usually resided on his lands, a short distance from the town. On a quiet Sabbath day, while sitting alone in his country house, Christolphe Rublo stole to a window and shot him dead. Plundering the murdered man of his pistols and rifle, and mounting his saddle horse, he rode away forever from organized society, joining the roving band of Antonio Perez. Sometimes he would creep back to the hacienda of Nevarro on a stealthy visit to his father, who was not himself altogether unsuspected; nevertheless, he was thenceforward looked upon by the people of Seguin, and all the inhabitants for miles around it, as a robber and an outlaw, and, indeed, they were accustomed to hunt for him over the prairie, and in the timber lands along the rivers, as they would hunt for a ravenous beast, which, in fact, he was.
Partaking of the general feeling in regard to him, and having caught a due share of the excitement growing out of the recent robbery, I turned about, and as may well be conjectured, was soon proclaiming through Seguin the intelligence received from Marcos Beremindo. It was instantly resolved to raise a party to go in pursuit, but here a difficulty presented itself of a provoking character. With the exception of a fleet mare owned by one Milford Day, which escaped the plunderers, on account of having occupied an apartment in his dwelling house, there was not an animal, save a few old mules and broken-down Spanish nags, to be found in the whole place. It was impossible, therefore, to start a force sufficient to be of any service in such a chase as was proposed. Day and myself were the only persons provided with any sort of decent locomotion. Nevertheless, we concluded to set forth alone, and accordingly at early dawn next morning galloped away in the direction of St. Marks, on a journey of discovery.
We approached, at length, a dense chapparal, so dense as to obstruct the vision, surrounding entirely a smooth plat of ground, containing, perhaps, an acre. As we rode cautiously around the outer edge of this belt of shrubbery, Day suddenly halted, and placing his fingers to his lips as a sign for silence, pointed through a narrow opening. Looking through it, we saw within, ten or a dozen Mexicans with twice that number of horses, the party we were in pursuit of.
As a robber’s retreat, no more admirable selection could have been made than this miniature prairie amidst the chapparal. A blind, narrow trail afforded ingress on one side, and a similar crooked path, egress on the other. Some of the banditti were mending their saddles—some repairing their moccasins and hunting shirts, while others were stretched upon the grass in apparent slumber. They were, evidently, unconscious that the eyes of an enemy were upon them.
We moved off silently to a thicket in the vicinity, dismounted, tied our horses in such a position as to avoid observation, and held a council of war. In the first place, the conclusion was unanimous and beyond question, founded on an unwavering confidence in the speed and bottom of our animals, that if pursued, we could easily outstrip them in a race. This point settled, we resolved not to retreat until they had received, from the muzzles of our rifles, at least one installment of the heavy debt which, in common with the plundered citizens of Seguin, we hoped eventually to liquidate entirely.
Returning to the chapparal on our hands and knees through the high grass, a favorable opening was discovered, not, however, until after a considerable search had been made.
Here we had a fair view of the party and much of the stolen property of ourselves and neighbors. For some time we watched them, anxious to distinguish among the group the form of Christolphe Rubio, but in vain. Nowhere could he be seen, yet we knew he was the captain of the band, and the cause of his absence was difficult to understand. If we could only secure him, alive or dead, we knew it would be a service the whole community would applaud, and which it had long and fruitlessly endeavored to accomplish; but the good genius which had attended him throughout all his murderous career, miraculously delivering him harmless from so many perils, still seemed to be enamored of his life, and to press close and lovingly to his side.
At length, becoming sensible of the imprudence of further procrastination, and that “delays are dangerous,” we drew our rifles to the shoulder and fired. The report brought the whole party to their feet like an electric shock, and among them Christolphe Rublo, hitherto concealed behind a pile of buffalo skins and blankets. During the confusion thus suddenly created we discharged our revolvers, and then ran back to the thicket, mounted our horses, and made ready for a long, sharp ride, with the whole pack in hot pursuit. Instead, however, of beholding them as we expected, emerging from the chapparal and making towards us, we were utterly astonished on perceiving they had taken the opposite direction and were flying from us like frightened deer. Evidently they supposed us the advance party of a large force, and fled without waiting to ascertain the mistake. Indeed, such was the panic into which they had been thrown that, in their haste to fly, they left most of their saddles and much other property behind them. We entered their camp, taking as large a load of it as was convenient to carry, and returned to Seguin, destined, straightway, to enter on a new series of adventures far more tragical and exciting.
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