tance increasing.

"It must be his horse," he reiterates, still continuing to listen. "And
who but he on the animal's back? Going off? Yes; slowly enough. No
wonder at that. Ha! he's come to a halt. What's the best thing for me
to do?"

He sits silently considering, but only for a few seconds; then glancing
around the glade, in which yester eve he had shed innocent blood, at the
same time losing some of his own, he sees another break among the
bushes, where the _tapir_ path goes out again. Faint as the light still
is, it shows him some horse-tracks, apparently quite fresh, leading off
that way.

He stays not for more, but again plying the spur, re-enters the thicket,
not to go back to the ford, but on in the opposite direction. The
_tapir_ path takes him up an acclivity, from the stream's edge to the
level of the higher plain, and against it he urges his horse to as much
speed as the nature of the ground will permit. He has thrown away
caution now, and presses forward without fear, expecting soon to see a
man on horseback, but so badly crippled as to be easily overtaken, and
as easily overcome.

What he does see, on reaching the summit of the slope, is something very
different--two horses instead of one, with a man upon the back of each!
And though one may be wounded and disabled, as he knows him to be, the
other is not so, as he can well see. Instead, a man in full health,
strength, and vigour, one Rufino Valdez fears as much as hates, though
hating him with his whole heart. For it is Gaspar, the gaucho, once his
rival in the affections of a Paraguayan girl, and successful in gaining
them.

That the _vaqueano's_ fear now predominates over his antipathy is
evident from his behaviour. Instead of dashing on after to overtake the
horsemen, who, with backs towards him, are slowly retiring, he shows
only a desire to shun them. True, there would be two to one, and he has
himself but a single arm available--his left, broken and bandaged, being
now in a sling. But then only one of the two would be likely to stand
against him, the other being too far gone for light. Indeed,
Halberger--for Valdez naturally supposes it to be he--sits drooped in
his saddle, as though he had difficulty in keeping to it. Not that he
has any idea of attacking them does the _vaqueano_ take note of this,
nor has he the slightest thought of attempting to overtake them. Even
knew he that the wounded man were about to drop dead, he k