than
an hour they sped along, down in the flowering hollows, over the grassy
waves steering carefully past the riddled townships of the biscachos,
now and then diverging a little to avoid some larger shrubs or tangled
masses of herbage, sometimes uttering a word of comment on passing
objects, and occasionally craning their necks on observing some buzzard
or other bird on the horizon, but never drawing rein until they came to
a rising ground, from the highest point of which they could have a
commanding view of the region all round. Here they pulled up.

"Quashy," said Lawrence, in a deep, solemn tone, "we are indeed lost."

"It 'pears to me you's right, massa."

"And yet we _must_ be on the right track," continued Lawrence, as if
communing with himself, "unless, indeed, the Indians may have changed
their direction and turned off to the south."

"Or de nort'," suggested Quashy, in the same self-communing tone.

"Come, there's nothing for it but to push on," cried Lawrence, galloping
away.

"Das so. Nuffin else," said Quashy, following.

And so they continued on for another hour or more in grim silence, after
which they rode, as it were, in grim despair--at least Lawrence did so,
for he felt bitterly that he was now separated, perhaps for ever, from
Manuela, and that he could render no further aid in rescuing the
captives from the savages. As for the negro, despair was not compatible
with his free and easy, not to say reckless, happy-go-lucky temperament.
He felt deeply indeed for his young master, and sympathised profoundly;
but for himself he cared little, and thought of nothing beyond the
interests of the passing hour. Possibly if both horses had broken their
legs and Lawrence had broken his neck, Quashy might have given way to
despair, but it is probable that nothing less severe could have overcome
his buoyant spirit.

At last the sun began to descend behind the Andes, which were by that
time turned into a misty range of tender blue in the far, far distance.
The steeds also showed signs of declining power, for, in his anxiety to
overtake the troops, Lawrence had pressed them rather harder than he
would otherwise have done.

Opportunely at that time they came in sight of a small clump of bushes,
like a low islet in the sea of grass.

"We will camp here," said Lawrence, brusquely, as he pulled up and
dismounted. "The game is up. We are fairly lost, that's quite clear,
and it is equally clear that we an