Buffalo Bill's Still Hunt; Or, The Robber of the Range — Inside the Classic

CROSSING THE RIO GRANDE.

The Rio Grande, the great dividing-line between Mexico and the United States, was swelling rapidly into a flood under recent rains, which had sent torrents dashing from the mountain lands toward the Gulf.

A carriage, drawn by two horses, had halted upon the banks at the ford, the Mexican driver on the box seeming afraid to venture into the turbid stream.

Within the vehicle were two persons, one in the garb of a nun of the Church of Rome, the other a young and beautiful girl of sixteen, with dark hair and glorious eyes that revealed her Spanish blood.

“Well, Pedro, why do you halt here?” asked the nun of the driver.

“It is dangerous to cross, Sister Felicite,” was the answer.

“And the river is rising?”

“You know the ford, Pedro?”

“How deep will the waters come?”

“They will wash through the carriage, Sister Felicite.”

“Then what is to be done, Pedro?”

“Alas! I know not,” was the dejected reply.

“If you return, the road is dangerous, night is coming on, and there is no ranch within fifteen miles.”

“What shall we do, then?” the nun asked anxiously.

“Place greater weights in the carriage, sister; open the doors, to let the water run through and not wash it away; let me mount the box with Pedro, to use the whip, while he manages the horses, and we can get across.”

The speaker was the young girl, and the nun looked at her with an expression of amazed horror.

“Why, child, what do you mean?”

“Oh, Sister Felicite, I do not mind a ducking or danger, for I have crossed many a stream beyond its banks.”

“The señorita is right, Sister Felicite, for it is our only chance,” Pedro said.

“And the river is constantly rising, so that there is no time to delay,” Nina de Sutro remarked, in a determined manner, her face full of spirit and courage.

“What do you think, Pedro?” asked the nun.

“It is all that we can do, sister.”

“Then act upon the Señorita Nina’s suggestion at once.”

The driver sprang from his box, and at once began to pack the vehicle with stones to weight it down.

The baggage was taken from the boot and placed on top, and Sister Felicite mounted there, also, seated upon the cushions.

Nina climbed to the seat next to the driver’s upon the box; then the man mounted to his place, seized his reins, and, with a searching glance across the river, to where the trail left the waters on the other shore, he urged the horses into the now turbulent and deep stream.

It was a perilous undertaking, but the nun was silent and calm, the young girl fearless-faced and determined, the driver, Pedro, seeming anxious and nervous, understanding the danger more thoroughly, perhaps with a premonition of what lay in their path.

The carriage at times was swept along for a few feet; the horses time and again lost their footing but the brave driver knew the ford well, and Nina de Sutro understood just when to use the whip, for she carefully watched every movement of Pedro and the horses.

As they neared the other shore one of the horses suddenly sank out of sight into a hole, and the pull dragged the driver over upon the top of his now struggling team.

The vehicle swept around suddenly, the driver was beaten down by the plunging, struggling horses, and was swept away upon the surging current.

But Nina de Sutro had seized the reins, and, to her great delight, the vehicle was swept upon a bar, where its downward course was arrested, and the horses regained their footing once more.

“Alas! we, too, must go to join him soon,” said Sister Felicite, with calm resignation.

“Yes, sister, the waters are flowing more rapidly, and we will soon be swept away,” was the response of the young girl, who was still cool and full of nerve, though her face had blanched at thus being confronted by what appeared to be sure death.

“Keep up your courage, for I will come to your aid!”

The voice came from the bank, where a horseman had suddenly dashed down the hill and come to a halt.

“I will see if my lasso will reach you. Catch it, señorita, as I throw!” cried the horseman, and he launched the coil into the air, when it was caught by Nina, while the nun on the top of the carriage muttered a fervent:

“Holy Mother, I thank thee!”

A cheer broke from the lips of the horseman, who was splendidly mounted and equipped, and dressed in the garb of a Mexican gentleman ranchero.