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In a few minutes you're going to hear something that will remind you of the distant whine of a sawmill. After all, Pablo is a poor old fellow who lives a singularly humdrum existence." "Ah, yes; let the poor fellow have his simple little pleasures," Mrs. Parker pleaded. "'All work and no play' you know, Don Miguel."
"Foolish boy! That is a sign she thinks much of you. Tell her you did wrong to accuse her. Beg her to forgive you. Do not sulk, but love her and she will smile on you." "But this Señor Gordon?" "All nonsense, Pablo. I have talked with Juanita. It is you she loves. Go to her and be good to her. She is back there in the milkhouse churning.
Dismounting from his tired horse the Mexican, his spurs clanking on the walk, approached Barbara, and with his sombrero brushing the ground greeted her in his native tongue, turning an inquiring eye meanwhile upon the portly Horace P. Barbara returned his greeting in Spanish, following her words in English with: "This is Senor Blanton, Pablo. Mr. Blanton, this is my friend Pablo Garcia."
But I know it is all marked on the map, for it was with a red line; and my father understood it, and Jose Ramirez and Senor Valdez both pointed to it with their finger, and they said, 'All this here is your land, Pablo, always. I do not think my father need fear, do you?"
Pablo look pleased, but said nothing. The meat and hide were put into the cart, with some of the offal which Alice had asked for the dogs, and they set off on their return home.
I warn you it is better to tell all you know," she cried sternly. He looked up at her doggedly, moistened his lips, and looked down again without a word. "Speak!" she urged imperiously. "Where is Mr. Gordon? Tell me he is alive. And what of Pablo?" Manuel spoke in a low voice. "My cousin, you are driving him to silence. Leave him to me. He must be led, not driven." Valencia was beyond reason.
Pablo did not understand this speech, of course, but he recognized his own name and the name of El Sabio, and Young's gestures helped out the meaning of his words. Therefore Pablo grinned, and "whooped up" El Sabio; and we all set off briskly down the steep decline. Presently we found our way much easier than we had been led to expect by its rough beginning.
To effect this the more easily, they saluted the little band with a flight of arrows as they advanced. Fuentes and Pablo now heard Giacome warning them to start the horses and run for it. Both were mounted. They obeyed the directions of Giacome and with the entire band of horses charged boldly into the midst of the Indians regardless of their weapons.
The vaquero, even in his remote mountain-home, had heard of Don Pablo, knew that he was a good patriot and friend of the Indians, and he would therefore have risked his life to serve such a man for no people have proved more devoted to the friends of their race than these simple and faithful Indians of the Andes.
We could, of course, eat El Sabio though such was our feeling towards that excellent animal that eating him would be almost like eating one of ourselves; and Pablo, we knew, would regard eating this dear friend of his as neither more nor less than sheer cannibalism. And even if we did eat El Sabio, the meat of his little body would but prolong our lives for a week, or possibly for two weeks more.
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