e
would know how to lead the gentleman's horse very well.

They then gave him the bridle to hold, and he did not doubt that he was
the veritable head of the caravan.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XVI.

ON THE WAY.

It was not without a certain apprehension--nothing seemed to justify
it, however--that Dick Sand, three hundred steps from the steep bank of
the river, penetrated into the thick forest, the difficult paths of
which he and his companions were going to follow for ten days. On the
contrary, Mrs. Weldon herself, a woman and a mother, whom the perils
would make doubly anxious, had every confidence. Two very serious
motives had contributed to reassure her; first, because this region of
the pampas was neither very formidable on account of the natives, nor
on account of the animals which were found there; next, because, under
the direction of Harris, of a guide so sure of himself as the American
appeared to be, they could not be afraid of going astray.

Here is the order of proceeding, which, as far as possible, would be
observed during the journey:

Dick Sand and Harris, both armed, one with his long gun, the other with
a Remington, kept at the head of the little troop.

Then came Bat and Austin, also armed, each with a gun and a cutlass.

Behind them followed Mrs. Weldon and little Jack, on horseback; then
Nan and Tom.

In the rear, Acteon, armed with the fourth Remington, and Hercules,
with a hatchet in his belt, closed the march.

Dingo went backwards and forwards, and, as Dick Sand remarked, always
like an uneasy dog seeking a scent. The dog's ways had visibly changed
since the "Pilgrim's" shipwreck had cast it on this sea-coast. It
seemed agitated, and almost incessantly it kept up a dull grumbling,
rather lamentable than furious. That was remarked by all, though no one
could explain it.

As to Cousin Benedict, it had been as impossible to assign him an order
of marching as Dingo. Unless he had been held by a string, he would not
have kept it. His tin box strapped to his shoulder, his net in his
hand, his large magnifying glass suspended to his neck, sometimes
behind, sometimes in front, he scampered away among the high herbs,
watching for orthopters or any other insect in "pter," at the risk of
being bit by some venomous serpent.

During the first hour Mrs. Weldon, uneasy, called him back twenty
times. It was no use.

"Cousin Benedict," she finished by saying to