“By no means.” The señor reached out his hand and caught the barrel. “We are not sure that they have seen us, although such is probably the case. Aside from that, I would rather not be the first to engage. But a better reason than all is that we should reserve our fire, if firing be necessary, until we can let go a volley into their midst. It might stampede them.
“Ah! see!” he exclaimed a moment later. “My first surmise was correct.”
The Indian had risen suddenly from the grass and had bent his bow. But the arrow was not aimed in their direction; it was pointed toward the woods, away from the river bank, and that moment Ferguson saw a young deer near a dwarf palm. Sharp and clear they heard the twang of the hide-string and the whistle of the dart, so near was the savage to them; and the animal fell dead in its tracks. The Majerona walked leisurely over to where his prey had dropped, and lifting it on his broad shoulders, he started back to camp.
“He is a hunter for the band,” said the captain. “There are probably others out. His actions are proof that they do not even suspect we are in the vicinity. I suppose they think that my trail, which they followed for a short distance this morning, was that of a wild animal. Now I believe that we are going to get out of this without even a brush with them.”
All breathed easier at these reassuring words; all except Harvey, who said, “But there is a chance they may come, is there not?”
“Why, from your tone, I really believe you wish they would,” said the señor. “But,” he added, “that chance and a remark which I made to Mr. Ferguson have reminded me of something. I believe I said that a volley might have a demoralizing effect, did I not?”
“Yes; I think you did.”
“Then I shall endeavor to increase the effect. Didn’t I see a gourd in camp?”
“Harvey has one which Señora Cisneros gave him.”
“Let me have it, Harvey. I can’t promise to return it, but I may make it of use.”