we can better conceal
them among the bushes. Besides, if it should come to our being under
the necessity of a speedy retreat, we'll be nearer to the back-track,
and have a fairer chance of getting off. Senoritos! get your jergas,
and wrap them round your horses' heads."

He sets the example by so disposing of his own; and, accustomed to quick
action in matters of the kind, all three soon have their animals
"tapado." Then, leading them across to where the path ascends on the
opposite side, they place them under cover of some thick bushes growing
near by, Caspar saying:

"They'll be safe enough here, I take it; at all events till the morning.
Then we may move them elsewhere, and if we're to have a run for it,
remember, _hijos mios_, 'twill be a race for our lives. There's no
Naraguana now to stand between us and that young wolf, who I fear has
got the dear little lamb in his clutches, so fast we'll have great--"

The effect of his words are such, upon those listening to them, that he
suddenly interrupts himself in what he was about to say, and in changed
tone continues: "_Carramba_! we'll rescue her yet, Naraguana, or no
Naraguana. It can be done without him, and I think I know the way."

In saying so, Caspar is practising a slight deception, his object being
to cheer his young companions, over whom his last speech seemed to cast
the gloom of despair. For he has as yet thought of no way, nor
conceived any definite plan of action. When asked by Cypriano to
explain himself, he is silent; and appealed to, he answers by evasion.
The truth is, that up to the instant of his finding Naraguana's body
upon the scaffold, he too had been trusting all to what the latter would
do for them; and no more than Ludwig could he believe the good old chief
to have turned traitor to the palefaced friend so long under his
protection, much less connived at his assassination. Now, the gaucho
knows he has had no hand either in the murder of his master, or the
abduction of that master's daughter. These events must have occurred
subsequent to his death, and, while they were in the act of occurrence,
Naraguana was sleeping his last sleep under his plumed _manta_ upon that
elevated platform. His son and successor--for Gaspar doubts not that
Aguara has succeeded him in the chieftainship--is answerable for the
deed of double crime, whoever may have been his aiders and abettors.

Of course, this makes the case all the more difficult to dea