THE MESSENGER.

Joan remained a short time, crouched in the high grass, reflecting. Presently he began to run. Satisfied that he was alone, he unrolled his lasso, pulled out the running noose, and fastened it to the end of a bush. Upon this bush he tied his hat so that it could not fall; he then retreated with great caution, unrolling his lasso as he went. When he had gained the extremity of the lasso, he drew it gently, by little pulls, towards him, giving a slight oscillating movement to the bush.

This movement was perceived by the sentinels; they sprang towards the bush, saw the hat, and fired. In the meantime, Joan scampered away, with the swiftness of a guanaco.

He arrived within sight of San Miguel at three o'clock in the morning. When he entered the toldería, shadow and silence prevailed on all sides; the inhabitants were asleep, a few dogs were baying the moon; he did not know how to find the men he was in search of, when the door of a hut opened, and two men, followed by an enormous Newfoundland dog, appeared upon the road.

Joan remembered having seen at Valdivia, with the Frenchmen, a dog like the one that had given him so formidable a welcome; and, being a man of prompt resolution, he formed his without hesitation, and cried with a loud voice—

"Are you the Muruche, the friend of Curumilla?"

"Curumilla!" Trangoil-Lanec exclaimed, as he drew nearer; "if he sends you to us, you must have something to report to us?"

"Are you the persons I seek?" Joan asked.

"Yes, but in the hut, and by the light of a candle, we shall recognise each other better than here."

The three men entered the hut, followed by the dog. Without losing time, Trangoil-Lanec took out his mechero, struck a light, and lit a candle.

"Good!" he said, "it is he whom Curumilla once sent to Valdivia."

"Yes," Joan replied.

Joan pressed that loyal hand, Trangoil-Lanec turned towards Joan, saying—

"I expected last night, at sunset, the arrival of Curumilla and two friends."

Joan bowed respectfully, and drew from his belt the piece of stuff which Curumilla had sent.

"A piece of Curumilla's poncho!" Trangoil-Lanec exclaimed violently. "Of what terrible news are you the bearer?"

"The news I bring is bad; nevertheless, at the time I left them, Curumilla and his companions were in safety, and unwounded."

"Curumilla cut this piece off his poncho, saying, as he gave it to me, 'Go and find my brothers, show them this stuff, then they will believe you.' I set out, I have travelled twelve leagues since sunset, and here I am."

Joan then made the recital they required of him, to which Valentine and the Ulmen listened with the greatest attention.

What was to be done? These three indomitable men found themselves opposed by an impossibility, which rose implacable and terrible before them. Valentine was the first to decide.

"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "since we have nothing left but to die with our friends, let us hasten to join them."

"Come, then," the two Indians replied. They left the hut just as the sun was rising.

The two men leaned into their saddles. Then commenced a desperate journey. It lasted six hours, then in sight of Corcovado.

"Here we must dismount," said Joan.

The horses were abandoned, and the three companions began to climb the mountain.

"Wait here for me," said Joan; "I will see how the land lies after a while."

His companions threw themselves on the ground, and he crept away. Instead of ascending higher, the Indian soon disappeared behind one of the numerous masses of granite. His absence was so long, that his friends were preparing to resume their march, at whatever risk, when they saw him come running quickly.

"Well, what is going on?" Valentine asked. "What makes you have such a joyful countenance?"

"Curumilla," Joan replied, "has burnt the forest behind the rocks."

"What good advantage can that conflagration procure us?"

"An immense one. The warriors of Antinahuel were concealed among the bushes and beneath the trees; they have been forced to retire."

"Come on, then," cried Valentine.

"Let us be gone," said Valentine, "it will be hard if, with the assistance of these three resolute men, I cannot save my poor Louis."

Followed by his dog Cæsar, who looked at him, wagging his tail, he followed Trangoil-Lanec, who trod in the steps of Joan. In twenty minutes they found themselves at the foot of the rocks, from which Don Tadeo and Curumilla made them joyous signals of welcome.


[CHAPTER XVII.]