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Updated: July 2, 2025
This last magnificent exploit seemed to end the battle; some arrows flew harmlessly around Diaz, who was welcomed back with shouts of triumph by his companions. "Poor Benito!" cried Baraja; "may God rest his soul, I regret even his terrific histories." "What is still more to be regretted," interrupted Oroche, "is the death of the illustrious Cuchillo, the guide of the expedition."
Just then Cuchillo, accompanied by Baraja, entered to pay their respects to the master of the hacienda. Their entrance within the sala of course created some slight disarrangement in the tableaux of the dramatis personal already there. This confusion gave Tiburcio an opportunity to carry out a desperate resolution he had formed, and profiting by it, he advanced nearer to Rosarita.
These Indians are as curious as the very devil; and they can extract a secret almost as effectually as the Holy Inquisition itself. Perhaps they are frightening either the guide or Gayferos to betray the situation of our camp." "God forbid they should succeed!" exclaimed Baraja.
"You offend me, Senor Cuchillo," said Baraja, "my word has always passed for its value in cash." "Especially when you don't happen to lose," sneeringly added Cuchillo. "That is not a very delicate insinuation," said Baraja gathering up the cards. "Fye, fye! Senor Cuchillo to get angry about such a trifle!
How many times have we scoured the woods and the plains together. How often have we borne together heat, hunger, and thirst! This old and faithful friend is my horse, as you may have guessed. I give him to you, friend Baraja. Treat him kindly love him as I love him, and he will love you as he loves me. His companion was killed by a tiger, and he will now be left alone."
"No matter," grumbled Benito; "let them fire away. If it be not Cuchillo or Gayferos, we needn't care. So, friend Baraja, I wish you good-night go to sleep yourself. In the desert, time for sleep is precious, although at any minute you may be sent to sleep in eternity Good-night!"
As he approached the group his sharp eye soon took in the different individuals that composed it, and rested with a satisfied look on the form of Tiburcio. "The devil take that fire of yours!" he said abruptly, but in a tone of good-humour. "It has frightened away from us two of the most beautiful jaguars that ever roamed about these deserts." "Frightened them away!" exclaimed Baraja. "Carramba!
"I thank you, Senor Baraja, for you good opinion," returned Cuchillo, at the same time taking from the cinders a piece of the meat, half burnt, half raw, and munching it down with the most perfect indifference; "I thank you sincerely, and when I tell you the circumstances you may judge for yourself."
For the first time a cloud of sadness appeared on the ex-herdsman's brow, and his eyes looked as though tears stood in them. Baraja was struck by the change, and laid his head upon the old man's arm. Benito raised his head. "I understand you," said he, "but man has his moments of weakness.
By this light Cuchillo and Baraja forgetful of all their promises and vows were going on with the game, which had been so suddenly interrupted that morning at the village of Huerfano.
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