man's axe had been busy with the trees; save foxes
and birds, no living creature had left traces of its presence. Only in
one place Herrera and the Mochuelo discovered a number of sheep bones
scattered amongst the long grass, remnants doubtless of some former
banquet of the smugglers; and not far off, in the hollow of a tree,
serving as a niche, a small plaster figure of the Virgin and child, that
had once been painted, but of which the damp had long since strangely
confounded the colours, told of a lingering devotional qualm on the part
of the wild law-breakers.
Still keeping under shelter of the abundant trees, the Mochuelo led his
companion to the rear of the platform. There the mountains rose in
precipices, and the most careful examination only showed one path, that
being such as few besides a mountain-goat or a chamois-hunter would
willingly have ventured upon, by which the lurking-place of the
guerillas could on that side be approached. At the foot of this path,
concealed amongst the bushes, crouched two sentries. At another point
also, where, from the loftiest part of the platform, a view was obtained
over the tree-tops up the defile between the mountains, other two
watchers were stationed, stretched at full length amongst the fern, and
peering out through laurel bushes, with whose dark foliage their bronzed
physiognomies were confounded beyond a possibility of detection.
Fully satisfied of the security of their position, the Mochuelo and
Herrera returned to their companions. The soldiers were for the most
part asleep; some few, whose appetite was even greater than their
drowsiness, were breaking their fast with black ration-bread, seasoned
with an onion or sausage, and washed down, in the absence of better
beverage, with draughts from the diamond-bright stream that rushed and
tinkled past them. Torres, with his head on his saddle, was soundly
sleeping; his dreams, to judge by the smile on his pleasant countenance,
being of a more agreeable nature than the realities of his position.
Velasquez had followed his example, and snored in a key that almost
induced his chief to awaken him, lest his nasal melody should be heard
at too great a distance.
"Can you depend on your men?" said Herrera to the Mochuelo. "A desertion
would be ruin, and yet the temptation is great. What would the man get
who delivered the dreaded Mochuelo and his band into the hands of the
enemy?"
"Thanks and reward to-day, distrust and disg
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