xcept where trees
overhung the road, we could see some little distance ahead, the only
direction in which we had reason to apprehend danger.

Carmen and I rode in front; Gahra and Guido a few yards in the rear.

We had not been under way more than a few minutes when Gahra uttered an
exclamation.

"Hist, senores! Look behind!" he said.

Turning half round in our saddles and peering intently into the gloom we
could just make out what seemed like a body of horsemen riding swiftly
after us.

"Probably a belated foraging party returning to camp," said Carmen.
"Deucedly awkward, though! But they have, perhaps, no desire to overtake
us. Let us go on just fast enough to keep them at a respectful distance."

But it very soon became evident that the foraging party--if it were a
foraging party--did desire to overtake us. They put on more speed; so did
we. Then came loud shouts of "_Halte!_" These producing no effect, several
pistol shots were fired.

"_Dios mio!_" said Carmen; "they will rouse the camp, and the road will be
barred. Look here, Fortescue; about two miles farther on is an open glade
which we have to cross, and which the fellows must also cross if they
either meet or intercept us. The trail to the left leads to the llanos. It
runs between high banks, and is so narrow that one resolute man may stop a
dozen. If any of the _gauchos_ get there before us we are lost. Your horse
is the fleetest. Ride as for your life and hold it till we come."

Before the words were well out of Carmen's mouth, I let Pizarro go. He
went like the wind. In six minutes I had reached my point and taken post
in the throat of the pass, well in the shade. And I was none too soon,
for, almost at the same instant, three _llaneros_ dashed into the
clearing, and then, as if uncertain what to do next, pulled up short.

"Whereabout was it? What trail shall we take?" asked one.

"This" (pointing to the road I had just quitted).

"Don't you hear the shouts?--and there goes another pistol shot!"

"Better divide," said another. "I will stay here and watch. You, Jose, go
forward, and you, Sanchez, reconnoitre the llanos trail."

Jose went his way, Sanchez came my way.

Still in the shade and hidden, I drew one of my pistols and cocked it,
fully intending, however, to reserve my fire till the last moment; I was
loath to shoot a man with whom I had served only a few days before. But
when he drew near, and, shouting my name, lowered his lance, I h