ave served her, had not a hand interposed in her behalf. Amidst the
terrified cries of the children, the voice of Guapo was heard calling to
Don Pablo,--"Your pistols, master! give me your pistols!"

Something glided quickly among the legs of the animals. It was the
lithe body of the Indian. In a second's time he appeared in front of
the mule. The bull was just lowering his head to charge forward--his
horns were set--the foam fell from his lips--and his eyes glanced fire
out of their dark orbs. Before he could make the rush, there came the
loud report of a pistol--a cloud of sulphury smoke--a short struggle on
the cliff--and then a dead plunge in the torrent below!

The smoke partially cleared away; then came another crack--another
cloud--another short struggle--and another distant plash in the water!

The smoke cleared away a second time. The two bulls were no longer to
be seen!

Guapo, in front of the mule, now ran forward upon the ledge, and looked
round the buttress of rock. Then, turning suddenly, he waved his hand,
and shouted back--

"No more, master; you may come on--the road is clear!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE LONE CROSS IN THE FOREST.

After two more days of fatiguing travel, the road parted from the bank
of the river, and ran along the ridge of a high mountain spur in a
direction at right angles to that of the Andes themselves. This spur
continued for several miles, and then ended abruptly. At the point
where it ended, the path, which for the whole of the day had been
scarcely traceable, also came to an end. They were now of course in a
forest-covered country--in the _Ceja de la Montana_--that is, the forest
that covers the foot-hills of the mountains. The forest of the plains,
which were yet lower down, is known as the "Montana" proper.

During that day they had found the road in several places choked up with
underwood, and Guapo had to clear it with his _machete_--a sort of
half-sword, half-knife, used throughout all Spanish America, partly to
cut brushwood and partly as a weapon of defence. Where the ridge ended,
however, what had once been a road was now entirely overgrown--vines and
llianas of large size crossed the path. Evidently no one had passed for
years. A road existed no longer; the luxuriant vegetation had effaced
it.

This is no unusual thing on the borders of the Montana. Many a
settlement had existed there in former times, and had been abandoned.
No doubt the road