"
"As they never take a bath, they couldn't get clean any other way; and
besides it rests them after any great exertion--Mission raiding, for
instance--and they also fancy it drags every humour out through the
pores of the skin. They'll be coming out soon. Let us go down to the
creek and wait."
The smoke was ascending upward in straight columns through the still
air, scarcely clouding the brilliant morning, not a wreath wandering
into the aisles of the forest. The sun climbed higher, melting the light
fall of snow, its rays dancing among the silver ripples of the water,
vivifying the many greens about the creek.
The boys amused themselves flinging pebbles at the darting trout and
discussing chances of escape.
"We must not fly too soon," said Roldan, "or we shall run into the
soldiers. Of course they are scouring the country after these robbers."
"This is a good place to hide in until the Mission food gives out; but
I'd prefer even the barracks to living on acorns--Ay, look!"
The door of one of the temascals had opened. A limp figure tottered
forth and down to the bank. He almost fell into the creek, but had
sufficient wit uncooked to rest his head on a projecting stone.
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