ne way I know of to hinder her from
becoming the wife of her cousin Cypriano, and that is--"

"What?" impatiently asks Aguara.

"To separate them. Let father, mother, son, and nephew be taken back to
where they belong; the _nina_ to stay behind."

"But how can that be done?"

"You mean without your showing your hand in it?" asks Valdez, in a
confidential whisper.

"I do. For know, Senor Rufino, that, though I'm now chief of our tribe,
and those we have with us here will do as I bid them--obey me in
anything--still the elders have control, and might make trouble if I did
aught to injure the friend of my late father. I am not free, and dare
not act as you propose."

"_Carramba_! you needn't act at all, as I've already told you. Only
stand aside, and let others do the acting. 'Twill be easy enough. But
give your consent to my bringing a pack of our Paraguayan wolves to this
fold your father has so carefully shepherded, and I'll answer for
sorting out the sheep we want to take, and leaving the lamb you wish
left. Then you and yours can come opportunely up, too late for
protecting the old ram and dam, but in time to rescue the bleating
lambkin, and bear her away to a place of safety. Your own toldo, Senor
Aguara; where, take my word for't, no one will ever come to inquire
after, much less reclaim her. You consent?"

"Speak low!" cautions the wily Indian, casting a glance over his
shoulders as one willing to do a wicked deed, but without desiring it
known. "Don't let them hear us. _You have my consent_."

CHAPTER NINE.

A RED-HANDED RUFFIAN.

Just as the young cacique has yielded to the tempter, surrendering his
last scruple of conscience, his horse dips hoof in the stream, that of
the Paraguayan plunging into it at the same time. Knowing the ford
well, and that it is shallow, with a firm bottom, they ride boldly on;
their followers straggled out behind, these innocent of the foul
conspiracy being hatched so near; still keeping up their rollicky mirth,
and flinging about _jeux d'esprit_ as the spray drops are tossed from
the fetlocks of their wading horses.

It is a popular though erroneous belief, that the red men of America are
of austere and taciturn habit. The older ones may be at times, but even
these not always. Instead, as a rule they are given to jocularity and
fun; the youth brimful of it as the street boys of any European city.
At least one half of their diurnal hours is spent by them