hey advanced; while he, keeping
silence, left them ignorant of his own.

The men were evidently getting nearer, and Don Rafael heard their voices
with anxiety. He listened also to hear if any others replied to them in
the opposite direction; since in that case he would be in danger of
being surrounded. He knew not the number of his enemies; but he could
tell by the sounds that their cordon had not yet been completely drawn
around him, and there might still be a chance of escaping from it.

While thus listening, with all the eagerness of a man whose life was
depending on the acuteness of his hearing, a noise reached him, which he
knew was not made by a human being. It was the distant and sonorous
tapping of a woodpecker upon the trunk of a dead tree--a sound often
heard in the depths of an American forest. The sound fell upon his ear
like the voice of a friend. It seemed to say that, in the direction
whence it proceeded, no human creature would be found to trouble the
solitude of the forest.

The hint was sufficient for one skilled in wood-lore, as Don Rafael was.
Without a moment's hesitation, he faced in the direction of the sound,
and commenced advancing towards it--guided by the measured strokes given
by the beak of the bird.

He was still at some distance from the dead-wood, where the woodpecker
was employed seeking its food, when the bird, perceiving him, flew off
amidst the trees.

Don Rafael now halted, and once more bent his ear to listen. To his joy
he perceived that the voices of the searchers had receded to a distance.
This proved that he had passed out of their way; and, if they should
not find reason to return on their tracks, his chances of escape were
becoming more favourable.

To make more sure of not being followed, he adopted a ruse, which he had
learnt during his Indian campaigns. Taking up two dry sticks of
guiacuni wood, he struck one against the other, thus producing a sound
that resembled the tapping of the woodpecker's beak; and, after
repeating this for a number of times, he returned by a detour to the
same direction from which he had been forced on hearing the voices.

After a half-hour's advance through the thicket, he halted to refresh
himself by eating some fruits of the pawpaw that grew by the path.
Their juicy pulp served for a moment to satisfy the craving of both
appetites--relieving at the same time both hunger and thirst.

Mid-day had already passed, and the sun was beg