The Scarlet Shoulders, or, The Miner Rangers

Excerpt: ''“Indios—Indios bravos!” yelled Manuel Navaja, as he discharged his escopette full at the glowing disk of old Sol; then dropping it, he rushed through the outer gates, sounding the terrible words at every step, his affright being shared by all the peons who heard him, and, leaving their posts, one and all swarmed to the main building. There is a spell—a fascination like that of a rattlesnake—that none but the dweller in “the land of the sun” can know. Young and old, men, women and children felt it now, and all rushed into the hacienda, only intent upon their own safety. But a clear, stern voice soared above the din, above the shouts of men, the shrieks of women and children; and, aided by his strong arm, that dealt blows upon every hand, he managed to restore order so far that the inner gates were fastened securely, the window shutters closed, and doors barred, and then blockaded with such heavy articles of the furniture as could be moved. The outer gates were left open; no person would venture there, the haciendado being held back by a beautiful woman, who twined her arms around him with strength lent by terror.''