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There
is
no
hope
,
unless
she
can
get
within
hail
of
the
Texans
.
She
presses
on
for
the
alhuehueté
.
The
chased
equestrian
is
within
three
hundred
yards
of
the
bluff
,
over
which
the
tree
towers
.
She
once
more
glances
behind
her
.
"
Dios
me
amparé
!
"
(
God
preserve
me
.
)
God
preserve
her
!
She
will
be
too
late
!
The
foremost
of
her
pursuers
has
lifted
the
lazo
from
his
saddle
horn
:
he
is
winding
it
over
his
head
!
Before
she
can
reach
the
head
of
the
pass
,
the
noose
will
be
around
her
neck
,
and
then
--
And
then
,
a
sudden
thought
flashes
into
her
mind
--
thought
that
promises
escape
from
the
threatened
strangulation
.
The
cliff
that
overlooks
the
Alamo
is
nearer
than
the
gorge
,
by
which
the
creek
bottom
must
be
reached
.
She
remembers
that
its
crest
is
visible
from
the
jacalé
.
With
a
quick
jerk
upon
the
rein
,
she
diverges
from
her
course
;
and
,
instead
of
going
on
for
the
alhuehueté
,
she
rides
directly
towards
the
bluff
.
