But his goal was still five hundred yards away, and the nearest redskins were within two hundred yards, when he saw a rescuing charge shoot out from the wagons.

Coronado led it.

In this foxy nature the wolf was not wanting, and under strong impulse he could be somewhat of a Pizarro.

He had no starts of humanity nor of real chivalry, but he had family pride and personal vanity, and he was capable of the fighting fury.

When Thurstane had given the word to advance, Coronado had put himself forward gallantly.
"Stay here," he said to the officer; "guard the train with your infantry.
I am a caballero, and I will do a caballero's work," he added, rising proudly in his stirrups.