CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
THE SAVAGES SURPRISED.
Throughout the afternoon hours both parties remained stationary; the pursued indulging in a siesta, which days of rough riding and raiding, with nights of watchfulness, have made necessary; the pursuers, on their part, wearied as well, but unable to sleep so long as their vengeance remains unappeased, and such dread danger hangs over the heads of those near and dear to them.
Above the bivouacs the black vultures spread their shadowy wings, soaring and circling, each "gang" over the cohort it has been all day accompanying.
Every now and then between the two "gangs" one is seen coming and going, like so many mutual messengers passing between; for, although the flocks are far apart, they can see one another, and each is aware, by instinct clearer than human ken, what the other is after.

It is not the first time for them to follow two such parties travelling across the Texan prairie.

Nor will it be the first for them to unite in the air as the two troops come into collision on the earth.

Often have these birds, poised in the blue ether, looked down upon red carnage like that now impending.

Their instincts--let us call them so, for the sake of keeping peace with the naturalists of the closet--then admonish them what is likely to ensue.