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The tinker, now in full view, sat on a log near a tripod, beneath which crackled a bright fire, burning under a black pot. The leaping flames revealed a shrewd, weather-beaten face which turned sharply towards the bushes as the visitors appeared; they also lighted up the tinker's cart in the background, the browsing pony close by, the implements of the tinner's trade strewn around on the grass.
Blurred forms took shape, phantom figures moved along the embankment, stumps stirred. O'Reilly felt a pair of reins thrust into his hand and found Hilario examining a large pair of tinner's shears. "Do you wish me to go with you?" he inquired of the guide. The latter shook his head. "Antonio will go; he will keep watch while I clear a path. If you hear or see anything "
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