with which men like
these spring upon their human prey.

On the whole I felt relieved when the rumble of the waggon wheels fell
once more on my ears. I rode back to meet my people, and presently a halt
was made for the midday feed.

If aunt desired to feast her eyes on the Gaucho malo she had now a chance.
They played to her, sang to her, and went through a kind of wild dance for
her especial delectation.

'What romantic and beautiful blackguards they are!' was the remark she
made to Moncrieff.

Moncrieff smiled, somewhat grimly, I thought.

'It's no' for nought the cland[4] whistles,' he said in his broadest,
canniest accents.

These Gauchos were hunting, they told Moncrieff. Had they seen any Indians
about? No, no, not an Indian. The Indians were far, far south.

Aunt gave them some garments, food, and money; and, with many bows and
salaams, they mounted their steeds and went off like the wind.

I noticed that throughout the remainder of the day Moncrieff was unusually
silent, and appeared to wish to be alone. Towards evening he beckoned to
me.

'We'll ride on ahead,' he said, 'and look for a good bit of
camping-ground.'

Then away we both went at a canter, but in silence.

We rode on and on, the ground rising gently but steadily, until we stopped
at last on a high plateau, and gazed around us at the scene. A more bleak
and desolate country it would be impossible to imagine. One vast and
semi-desert plain, the eye relieved only by patches of algarrobo bushes,
or little lakes of water. Far ahead of us the cone of a solitary mountain
rose on the horizon, and towards this the sun was slowly declining. Away
miles in our rear were the waggons and horses struggling up the hill. But
silence as deep as death was everywhere. Moncrieff stretched his arm
southwards.

'What do you see yonder, Murdo?' he said.

'I see,' I replied, after carefully scanning the rolling plain, 'two
ostriches hurrying over the pampas.'

'Those are not ostriches, boy. They are those same villain Gauchos, and
they are after no good. I tell you this, that you may be prepared for
anything that may happen to-night. But look,' he added, turning his
horse's head; 'down here is a corral, and we are sure to find water.'

We soon reached it. Somewhat to our surprise we found no horses anywhere
about, and no sign of life around the little inn or _fonda_ except one
wretched-looking dog.

As we drew up at the door and listened the stillness f