ed life; but
one knowing a great deal of that which is savage; and young though she
is, having experienced trials, vicissitudes and dangers. That there is
danger impending over them now, or the possibility of it, she is quite
as conscious as her father, and equally observant of caution; therefore,
she holds her pony well in hand, patting it on the neck to keep it
quiet.

They have not long to stay before seeing what they half expected to
see--a party of Indians. Just as they have got well fixed in place,
with some leafy branches in front forming a screen over their faces, at
the same time giving them an aperture to peep through, the dusky
cavalcade shows its foremost files issuing out from the bushes on the
opposite side of the stream. Though still distant--at least, a quarter
of a mile--both father and daughter can perceive that they are Indians;
mounted, as a matter of course, for they could not and did not, expect
so see such afoot in the Chaco. But Francesca's eyes are sharper
sighted than those of her father, and at the first glance she makes out
more--not only that it is a party of Indians, but these of the Tovas
tribe. The feathered _manta_ of the young chief, with its bright gaudy
sheen, has caught her eye, and she knows whose shoulders it should be
covering.

"Yes, father," she says, in whisper, as soon as sighting it. "They are
the Tovas! See yonder! one of the two leading--that's Aguara."

"Oh! then, we've nothing to fear," rejoins her father, with a feeling of
relief. "So, Francesca, we may as well ride back out and meet them. I
suppose it is, as I've been conjecturing; the tribe is returning to its
old quarters. I wonder where they've been, and why so long away. But
we shall now learn all about it. And we'll have their company with us,
as far as their _talderia_; possibly all the way home, as, like enough,
Naraguana will come on with us to the estancia. In either case--ha!
what's that. As I live, a white man riding alongside Aguara! Who can
_he_ be?"

Up to this, Halberger has neither touched his horse nor stirred a step;
no more she, both keeping to the spot they had chosen for observation.
And both now alike eagerly scan the face of the man, supposed to be
white.

Again the eyes of the child, or her instincts, are keener and quicker
than those of the parent; or, at all events, she is the first to speak,
announcing a recognition.

"Oh, papa!" she exclaims, still in whispers, "it's th