But when the services were over, a number of
us lingered behind, as it was understood that the slayer as well
as his victim would be interred in the same grounds. A second
grave had been prepared, and within an hour a wagon containing a
woman, three small children, and several Mexicans drove up to the
rear side of the inclosure. There was no mistaking the party, the
coffin was carried in to the open grave, when every one present
went over to offer friendly services. But as we neared the little
group the woman picked up a shovel and charged on us like a
tigress. I never saw such an expression of mingled anger and
anguish in a human countenance as was pictured in that woman's
face. We shrank from her as if she had been a lioness, and when
at last she found her tongue, every word cut like a lash. Livid
with rage, the spittle frothing from her mouth, she drove us
away, saying:
"'Oh, you fiends of hell, when did I ask your help? Like the curs
you are, you would lick up the blood of your victim! Had you been
friends to me or mine, why did you not raise your voice in
protest when they were strangling the life out of the father of
my children? Away, you cowardly hounds! I've hired a few Mexicans
to help me, and I want none of your sympathy in this hour. Was it
your hand that cut him down from the tree this morning, and if it
was not, why do I need you now? Is my shame not enough in your
eyes but that you must taunt me further? Do my innocent children
want to look upon the faces of those who robbed them of a father?
If there is a spark of manhood left in one of you, show it by
leaving me alone! And you other scum, never fear but that you
will clutter hell in reward for last night's work.
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