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"Bah!" said Baraja, speaking of these; "better to die than live wearing a coat out at elbows." Cuchillo was of the same opinion. Meanwhile the sun was growing hotter and hotter. A burning wind began to blow through the trees, and the horses of the two travellers, suffering from thirst, uttered their plaintive neighings.
From this the players occasionally helped themselves as a finale to the elegant supper they had eaten and to which Cuchillo, Baraja, and Oroche had done ample honour. Notwithstanding the frequent bumpers which Cuchillo had quaffed, he appeared to be in the worst of humour, and a prey to the most violent passions.
"After all," said Baraja, "I think there can't be much danger, so long as we have got the horses between us and these terrible brutes." Unhappily, this chance of safety was not to exist much longer, for just then the jaguars recommenced their growling, both of them nearer than ever.
Beyond the entrenchments the moonlight whitened the plain, and even the fog which covered the summits of a chain of mountains which were visible in the horizon. Behind the carts paced the sentinels, carbine in hand. Among the various groups of men scattered about were Benito, the servant of Don Estevan, and Baraja. They were engaged in conversation.
Amidst the group of Indians, whose lances and hatchets fell indiscriminately upon horses, mules and men, the chief was recognisable by his vast height, the painting of his face and his great strength. It was the second time that he had faced the whites since the commencement of the campaign, and his name was known to them. "Here, Diaz," cried Baraja, "here is the Spotted Cat!"
But the light proved disadvantageous to Baraja and Oroche, for it enabled Don Estevan to perceive that they were far from steady in their seats. "Why, these fellows are drunk!" cried he, turning upon the guide a look of furious reproach. "Are these the assistants you count upon?" "True, your honour," replied Cuchillo, "they are not exactly sober; but I hope soon to cure them.
"Good! Senor Baraja, good!" exclaimed Cuchillo, evidently pleased with the communication just made, "and if the business which I have with Don Estevan be satisfactorily concluded which I am in hopes it will be you are likely to have me for a comrade in this distant expedition.
The two new friends here exchanged a salute, full of affability, and then continued to eat, Baraja harpooning upon the point of his long knife another piece of meat out of the ashes. "If it please you, Senor Baraja," said Cuchillo, "we may talk over our business while we are eating. You will find me a host sans ceremonie." "Just what pleases me."
"Are the Indians numerous?" asked Baraja. "I had not time to count them; all that I know is that they must be near." And crossing the camp he proceeded to where Don Estevan after having attended to the most important precautions stood at the door of his tent waiting for him.
"Well then," continued Cuchillo, "when one has given himself, body and soul, to any cause, whatever it may be, it becomes his duty, as in my case, to put a full and complete constraint upon his affections, his passions, even his dearest interests ay, even upon any scruples of conscience that might arise in an over-delicate mind." "All the world knows that," said Baraja. "Just so, gentlemen.
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