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- Стр. 456/662
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The
change
puzzles
her
pursuers
--
at
the
same
time
giving
them
gratification
.
They
well
know
the
"
lay
"
of
the
land
.
They
understand
the
trending
of
the
cliff
;
and
are
now
confident
of
a
capture
.
The
leader
takes
a
fresh
hold
of
his
lazo
,
to
make
more
sure
of
the
throw
.
He
is
only
restrained
from
launching
it
,
by
the
certainty
she
can
not
escape
.
"
Chingaro
!
"
mutters
he
to
himself
,
"
if
she
go
much
farther
,
she
'll
be
over
the
precipice
!
"
His
reflection
is
false
.
She
goes
farther
,
but
not
over
the
precipice
.
With
another
quick
pull
upon
the
rein
she
has
changed
her
course
,
and
rides
along
the
edge
of
it
--
so
close
as
to
attract
the
attention
of
the
"
Tejanos
"
below
,
and
elicit
from
Zeb
Stump
that
quaint
exclamation
--
only
heard
upon
extraordinary
occasions
--
"
Geesus
Geehosofat
!
"
As
if
in
answer
to
the
exclamation
of
the
old
hunter
--
or
rather
to
the
interrogatory
with
which
he
has
followed
it
up
--
comes
the
cry
of
the
strange
equestrian
who
has
shown
herself
on
the
cliff
.
"
Los
Indios
!
Los
Indios
!
"
No
one
who
has
spent
three
days
in
Southern
Texas
could
mistake
the
meaning
of
that
phrase
--
whatever
his
native
tongue
.
It
is
the
alarm
cry
which
,
for
three
hundred
years
,
has
been
heard
along
three
thousand
miles
of
frontier
,
in
three
different
languages
--
"
Les
Indiens
!
Los
Indios
!
the
Indians
!
"
Dull
would
be
the
ear
,
slow
the
intellect
,
that
did
not
at
once
comprehend
it
,
along
with
the
sense
of
its
associated
danger
.
