ound to go thither. He could not climb the rocks to the right or
the left, and the braves would take care that he did not return.

As objection, even though I had felt disposed to make it, would have been
useless, I bowed acquiescence. The thought of resisting had more than once
crossed my mind, and, by dint of struggling and fighting, I might have
made the nandu so restive that I could not have been fastened on his back.
But in that case my second condition would have been worse than my first;
I should have been taken back to Pachatupec and either burned alive or
hacked to pieces, and, black as seemed the outlook, I clung to the hope
that the man-killer would somehow be the means of saving my life.

The binding was effected with considerable difficulty. It required the
united strength of nearly all the braves to hold the nandu while the
cacique and the keepers secured me on his back. As he was let go he kicked
out savagely, ripping open with his terrible claws one of the men who had
been holding him. The next moment he was striding down the steep and stony
pass at a speed which, in a few minutes, left the pursuing and shouting
Pachatupecs far behind. The ground was so rough and the descent so rapid
that I expected every moment we should come to grief. But on we went like
the wind. Never in my life, except in an express train, was I carried so
fast. The great bird was either wild with rage or under the impression
that he was being hunted. The speed took my breath away; the motion make
me sick. He must have done the fifteen miles between the head of the pass
and the beginning of the desert in little more than as many minutes. Then,
the ground being covered with sand and comparatively level, the nandu
slacked his speed somewhat, though he still went at a great pace.

The desert was a vast expanse of white sand, the glare of which, in the
bright sunshine, almost blinded me, interspersed with stretches of rock,
swept bare by the wind, and loose stones.

Instead of turning to the right or left, that is to say, to the north or
south, as I hoped and expected he would, the man-killer ran straight on
toward the sea. As for the distance of the coast from that part of the
Cordillera I had no definite idea--perhaps thirty miles, perhaps fifty,
perhaps more. But were it a hundred we should not be long in going thither
at the speed we were making; and vague hopes, suggesting the possibility
of signalling a passing ship or getting aw