Don't you remember, Barbato, one of our horses gave out there, and was left?
It's over him the zopilotes are swooping.
He's not dead yet; that's why they don't go down." "It may be," rejoins the renegade.

"Still I don't like the look of it.
Over a dead horse they'd hardly soar so high.

True, they keep in one place.

If it were Texans pursuing us they'd be moving onward--coming nearer and nearer.

They're not.