firmest friend, and I
rejoice therefore to have the opportunity of showing my gratitude by
being of service to his children. We shall be able to remain here
during the night, and will recommence our journey by dawn, so as to
reach the most difficult pass by mid-day, and I trust before evening to
have gained a place of safety."

"You will do well, my dear masters, to trust our friend thoroughly,"
said Domingos to John and me, while Don Jose was at a little distance.
"I know your father has a great regard for him, and whatever he promises
he can perform. You are indeed fortunate in meeting with him. He is a
cacique, whose fathers once had great power in the country; and though
deprived of his lands, he is still looked up to with respect by the
natives in all parts of the country."

"Then how comes he to be called Don Jose?" I asked.

"That is the name by which he is known to the whites, and it is the
safest by which to speak of him," answered Domingos. "I know not if I
ought to tell his real name; but you will be cautious, or he might be
displeased with me."

"Yes; do tell me," I said; "I am curious to know more about him."

Domingos looked around. The person we were speaking of was still out of
hearing.

"I will tell you, then," he replied. "His real name is Pumacagua. His
father, who headed the last attempt of the Indians to gain their liberty
before the revolution, when numerous tribes gathered to his standard,
was defeated, made prisoner, and shot. Young Jose, our friend, after
fighting bravely, escaped, and though sought for, was not discovered.
Your father had concealed him at great hazard, and afforded him shelter
till better times came round. He and I were the only persons in the
secret. Jose Pumacagua has, therefore, reason to be grateful to your
father, besides being connected with him by the ties of blood."

Just then Don Jose, as I will still call him, came up, and we were
unable to ask further questions of Domingos. Ellen was much interested
when we afterwards narrated to her what we had heard, and said that she
should try and get Don Jose to tell us his adventures, as she was sure
they must be very curious.

We were soon left quite alone; for the cascarilleros, having loaded
themselves with the result of their labour, took their way through the
forest. Our friend told us that they were carrying the bark to a
village out of the forest, where it would be free from damp, and be
exposed to