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Updated: June 26, 2025


They do as desired, and see what greatly surprises them. At least Cypriano is surprised; for the young Paraguayan, unlike his half-German cousin, unobservant of Nature generally, has never given a thought to any of its particular phenomena; and that now presented to his gaze is one of the strangest.

Besides, the thing seemed so absurd, even preposterous a red-skinned savage presuming to look upon his sister in the light of a sweetheart, daring to love her that the son of the Prussian naturalist, with all the prejudices of race, could not be otherwise than incredulous of it. "Are you sure of that?" he questions, still doubting. "Sure of what you've said, Cypriano?"

During all this dialogue, Ludwig is silent, seated in his saddle, a very picture of astonishment, alike wondering at what his cousin can mean, and the burst of joyous enthusiasm it has elicited from the gaucho's lips. His wonder is brought to an end, however, by Cypriano turning round to him, and giving the explanation in detail.

Four days they stopped with Cypriano, who treated them royally, killing an ox and stripping his garden to feast them, and sending them on to Cassange with provisions of meal ground by his mother and her maids.

So the sooner we're back to the bottom of the hill, the safer 'twill be. There we'll at least have some help from the speed of our horses, if in the end we have to run for it. Let us get below at once!" Having by this finished adjusting his bridle, he hands the rein to Cypriano, adding "You hold this, senorito, while I go after Shebotha. Botheration take that old hag!

"I was trying to persuade my people to move on to the bank in spite of them, when a young half-caste Portuguese sergeant of militia, Cypriano di Abren, who had come across in search of beeswax, made his appearance and gave the same advice."

At this juncture a half-caste Portuguese, a sergeant of militia, Cypriano Di Abreu arrived, and, obtaining ferrymen, they crossed over into the territory of the Bangala, who are subject to the Portuguese. They had some time before rebelled, and troops were now stationed among them, Cypriano being in command of a party of men.

The others seeing this, also bring their horses to a stand; then watch the gaucho, who is apparently engaged with a fresh inspection of the trail. "Have you found anything else?" asks Cypriano. "No, senorito. Instead, I've lost something." "What?" inquire both, in a breath. "I don't any longer see the tracks of that shod horse. I mean the big one we know nothing about.

"If she haven't I have," cries Gaspar, springing out from the place of concealment and seizing hold of the hag, while at the same instant Cypriano flings his arms around the Indian girl. "Come, Mam Shebotha!" continues the gaucho, "it's my turn to have a talk with you." She makes an effort to escape, and would cry out; but cannot, with his sinewy fingers around her throat.

Nor had there, for the tormenta, like cyclones and hurricanes, is often local, its blast having a well-defined border. Riding out upon this tract more pleasant for a traveller they make a momentary halt, but still remaining in their saddles, as they gaze inquiringly over it. And here Cypriano, recalling a remark which Gaspar had made at their last camping-place, asks an explanation of it.

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