CHAPTER III.

  THE PURSUIT.

  We will return to Curumilla. The night was gloomy--the darknessprofound. Urging their horses on with voice and gesture, the fugitivesmade the best of their way towards a forest which, if they could butreach, they would be safe.

  A leaden silence brooded over the desert. They galloped on withoututtering a word--without looking behind them. All at once the neighingof a horse fell upon their ears like the gloomy alarm call of a clarion.

  "We are lost!" Curumilla exclaimed.

  "What is to be done?" Rosario asked anxiously.

  "Stop," he at length cried.

  The young girl left everything to her guide. The Indian requested herto dismount.

  "Have confidence in me," he said; "whatever a man can do I willundertake, to save you."

  "I know you will!" she replied gratefully.

  Curumilla lifted her up in his arms, and carried her with as muchfacility as if she had been a child.

  "Why do you carry me thus?" she asked.

  "We must leave no sign," he replied shortly.

  He placed her on the ground with great precaution at the foot of a tree.

  "This tree is hollow, my sister will conceal herself in it; she willnot stir till I return."

  "Oh! you will not abandon me," she said.

  "I am going to make a false track, I shall soon return."

  The poor girl hesitated, she was frightened. Curumilla divined what shefelt. "It is our only chance of safety," he said, mournfully, "if mysister is not willing, I can remain."

  Rosario was not one of the weak, puling daughters of our great Europeancities, who wither before they bloom. Her resolution was formed withthe rapidity of lightning; she bore up against the fear which had takenpossession of her mind, and replied in a firm voice--

  "I will do what my brother desires."

  "Good!" the Indian said. "Let my sister conceal herself, then."

  He cautiously removed the cactus and creepers which surrounded thelower part of the tree, and exposed a cavity, into which the young girlcrept, all trembling, like a poor sparrow in the eyrie of an eagle. Assoon as Rosario was comfortably placed in the hollow of the tree, theIndian restored the plants to their primitive state, and completelyconcealed her hiding place with this transparent curtain. Then heregained the horses, mounted his own, led the other, and galloped off.

  He galloped thus for many minutes without relaxing his speed, and whenhe thought himself sufficiently far from the place where Dona Rosariowas concealed, he dismounted, listened for an instant, untied thesheep skins from the horses' feet and set off again with the speed ofan arrow. He soon heard the galloping of horses behind him; at firstdistant, but rapidly drawing near and at last becoming distinct.Curumilla had a ray of hope, for his manoeuvre had succeeded. He stillpressed on his horse, and leaving his heavy wooden stirrups, with theirsharp angles, to beat against the sides of the still galloping animal,he stuck his long lance into the ground, threw his weight upon it, andraising himself by the strength of his wrists, sprang lightly to theground, whilst the two abandoned horses held on their furious course.Curumilla glided in among the bushes, and made the best of his way backtowards Rosario, persuaded that the horsemen would be misled by thefalse track.

  Antinahuel had sent out his mosotones in all directions, in order todiscover the traces of the fugitives, but himself had remained in thevillage. Antinahuel was too experienced a warrior to allow himselfto be misled. His scouts returned, one after another, without havingdiscovered anything. The last two that returned brought with them twostray horses bathed in steam. These were the two horses abandoned byCurumilla.

  "Will she escape us then?" the Linda asked.

  "My sister," the Toqui replied, coolly, with a sinister smile, "whenAntinahuel pursues an enemy, he does not escape."

  "And yet----" she said.

  "Patience," he replied; "they had a chance; their horses gave them agreat advantage over me; but, thanks to my precautions, I have forcedthem to abandon their horses, which alone could have saved them. Withinan hour they will be in our hands."

  "To horse, then; and let us delay no longer," Dona Maria exclaimedimpatiently.

  "To horse, then, be it!" replied the chief.

  This time no false route was pursued; they followed in a straight linethe track by which the prisoners had escaped.

  In the meantime Curumilla had rejoined Rosario.

  "Well?" she asked, in a voice half choked by fear.

  "In a few moments we shall be taken," the chief replied mournfully.

  "What! have we no hope left?"

  "None! We are surrounded on all sides."

  "Oh, my Maker! What have I done?" the poor girl sobbed.

  Curumilla reclined upon the ground; he had taken his weapons from hisbelt, and placed them beside him; and with the stoical fatalism of theIndian when he knows that he cannot escape a destiny that threatenshim, he waited impassively, his arms crossed upon his breast, thearrival of the enemy. They heard the tramp of the horses drawing nearerand nearer. In a quarter of an hour all would be over.

  "Let my sister prepare," Curumilla said coolly: "Antinahuel approaches."

  "Poor man," said Rosario; "why did you endeavour to save me?"

  "The young blue-eyed maiden is the friend of my pale brothers; I wouldlay down my life for her."

  "You must not die, chief," she said, in her soft clear tones; "youshall not!"

  "Why not? I do not dread torture; my sister shall see how a chief candie."

  "Listen to me. You have heard the threats of that woman; my life is inno danger."

  He replied by a gesture of assent.

  "But," she continued, "if you remain with me, if you are taken, theywill kill you."

  "Yes," he remarked, coolly.

  "Then who will inform my friends of my fate? If you die, chief, whatcan they do to deliver me?"

  "That is true; they can do nothing."

  "You must live, then, chief, for my sake."

  "Does my sister wish it?"

  "I insist upon it."

  "Good!" said the Indian. "I will go, then; but let not my sister becast down."

  At this moment the noise of the approaching cavalcade resounded witha loudness that announced they were close at hand. The chief gatheredup his arms, replaced them in his belt, and, after bestowing a lastsign of encouragement upon Rosario, he glided among the high grass anddisappeared. Antinahuel and the Linda were within ten paces of her.

  "Here I am," she said, in a firm voice; "do with me what you please."

  Her persecutors, struck with such an exhibition of courage, pulled uptheir horses in astonishment. The courageous girl had saved Curumilla.