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Updated: May 26, 2025
You say it's quite twenty miles to the place where the gringo has his headquarters. If so, and they've not been in a great hurry to get home which like enough the girl would, since her dear Cypriano don't appear to be along we may come up with them by putting on speed. Let us after them at once! What say you?"
With your help we shall take her away to a place where Aguara will never more set eyes upon her. But as I've said, we stand in need of your assistance, and you must give it." "You will, you will!" interposes Cypriano, in tones of earnest appeal. "Yes, dear Nacena," follows Ludwig, in tenderer tones; "I'm sure you will. Remember, she is my sister, and that you yourself have a brother!"
"Hadn't we better fire at it through the ponchos? Some one of us may hit it." Cypriano makes the suggestion. "No," dissents Gaspar, "we might all miss that way; and if we did, 'twould drive the tigre mad, and then "
The same instinct, however, prompts her to feign ignorance of it, as evinced by her interrogative rejoinder: "How can Nacena assist you? In what way?" "By helping us to get the paleface out of her prison." It is Gaspar who speaks. "She is imprisoned, is she not?" "She is." "And where is she kept?" further questions the gaucho. Cypriano trembles as he listens for the answer.
"Forgotten what?" both inquire, with a surprised, but not apprehensive look; for the gaucho's words were not in this tone. "Something," he answers, "which we ought to find at this very crossing-place. A bit of good luck it's being here." "And what do you expect from it?" questions Cypriano. "I expect to learn whether we're still on the right track, or have strayed away from it.
This time his slumber is lighter, as also more profound; and, on the whole, he has a tolerable night's rest; in the morning feeling fairly refreshed, as likewise do Cypriano and Gaspar. All three are astir a good half-hour before there is any sign of day; and their camp-fire is rekindled.
"Caspita!" he resumes, after a pause, once more bending his eyes covetously upon the birds, and as if an idea had suddenly occurred to him, "I think I know of a way by which we may circumvent these two tall stalkers." "How?" eagerly asks Cypriano. "By going at them garzoneando." "Garzoneando!" exclaims Ludwig in echo. "Good Gaspar, whatever do you mean by that?"
Indians certainly; but of what tribe there is nothing on that spot to tell neither sign nor token. So concluding, Cypriano and Ludwig have climbed back into their saddles the former terribly impatient to proceed but Gaspar still stays afoot, holding his horse by the bridle at long reach, and leading the animal about from place to place, as if not yet satisfied with the search they have made.
At the word, their three guns go off together; and then, to make sure, another shot additional from the double barrelled piece of Cypriano; Ludwig's gun being the rifle that belonged to his father, found where the latter had fallen. And sure work have their shots made of it.
"What do you make of its being found here?" interrogates Cypriano, more interested about the ball in a sense different from the curiosity felt by his cousin. "Much," answers Caspar, looking grave, but without offering explanation; for he seems busied with some calculation, or conjecture.
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