l with,
since the new _cacique_, by this time established in full plenitude of
power, will have it all his own way, and can carry things with a high
hand, as he most surely will. To make appeal to him for the restitution
of the captive would be manifestly idle, like asking a tiger to
surrender the prey it holds between its teeth or in its claws. The
gaucho has no thought of so appealing, any more than either of the
others. And no more than they has he formed a plan of future action.
Only now, after their disposal of the horses, is his brain busy in the
conception of some scheme suited to the changed circumstances; and
hence, on Cypriano asking him to tell the way he knew of, he but replies
evasively, saying:

"Be patient, Senorito! Wait till we've got things a little snug, then
I'll take pleasure in telling you. But we mustn't remain here. On the
other side of this queer cemetery, where the road runs down to the
_tolderia_--as I've no doubt there is such--that will be the place for
us to spend the night in. There we can see and hear what passes on the
plain, and should any one stray up we'll be warned of it, either by our
eyes or ears, in good time to get out of their way. So let us cross
over. And we must step silently," he adds, pointing to the _cacique's_
scaffold tomb, "lest we disturb the sleep of old Naraguana, up yonder."

With this facetious remark, made partly in the indulgence of his usual
humour, but as much to raise the spirits of his young companions, he
strides off among the odd structures, making direct for the other side
of the cemetery, Ludwig and Cypriano following in single file.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

GASPAR MEANS MASQUERADING.

As they might truly anticipate, the gaucho's conjecture proves to be
correct. A road runs up to the summit of the hill on its western side;
not direct, but somewhat zigzagged, in consequence of the slope on that
face being steeper, and the ground more rocky and uneven. Withal, it is
much wider than that by which they ascended, the latter being only a
path leading out to the uninhabited pampa: while the former is the main
thoroughfare between town and cemetery. It debouches on the level
summit through a slight hollow, or defile, possibly due to the wear and
tear of travel, continued through the long ages. Many a funeral
procession, and from the most remote time, may have wound its way up
that steep slope, passing between two cliffs, which, like the postern