"This fellow should carry me across to the estancia at a fast gallop," he said, as he inspected the horse he had chosen, looking critically at his legs, and helped in his examination by the few flickering rays which came from the dancing flames of the fire. "A good, strong horse, with not too much bone. The fellow to carry my weight fast and far. Now for a second, and then away. They all seem to have bridles on, so that I shall have nothing to wait for, for I don't want a saddle. Ah, this is a likely-looking animal!"
Even now, when escape seemed so certain, he would not allow his eagerness to be away, out of the clutches of the rascals, to cause him to make a hasty choice. Life and liberty, after all, might depend more on the animals he chose than on his own courage and discretion. He might be followed. The pursuit might be kept up right to the borders of Mr. Blunt's estancia; and even if that were not the case, the lives of his comrades depended entirely on the swiftness with which he could reach friends.
"This is the fellow for my second," he said with decision, passing slowly down the line till he came to a fine roan, a shapely animal, which turned its handsome head to look at the stranger, and, as if it recognized a friend in him, whinnied gently.
"Whoa! Silence, boy! Sleep, for you will not be wanted till morning."
A voice rang out in the stillness, causing Dudley to drop instantly on hands and knees and shelter behind the heels of the long line of picketed horses. A man was crossing the firelit clearing, a fellow dressed like a gaucho, but of darker color. He wore a handkerchief of brilliant color about his head, and a belt of the same material round his waist, a belt which protruded at one point, where a revolver was thrust under it.
"An Indian," thought Dudley, watching the man as he sauntered across to the horses. "Probably a slave, or a general servant, or perhaps the cook. Yes, that is what he is."
There seemed to be no doubt about that matter, for the man who had called out, and who had so unexpectedly made his appearance, sauntered to the fire and stirred the contents of the kettle with a big wooden spoon. Dudley saw him lift the spoon to his lips and taste the contents, evidently with appreciation. Then he threw a stick or two on to the fire, prodded the ashes with another, and having assured himself that all was well there, strolled across to the horses.
"Sleep, my beauties," he said, patting the one which had whinnied, and talking to him in soothing tones. "Sleep and be happy. You will be undisturbed."
He suspected nothing. The good-natured fellow, for that he seemed to be, had not the faintest idea that within a couple of yards of him, stretched at the heels of the very horse he was caressing, lay one of the party his masters were attacking. The cook had wonderfully sharp eyes, for he had been brought up on the Indian pampas, and had, indeed, lived a wild life till this Antonio persuaded him to act as cook to the band under his command. But even sharp eyes cannot penetrate inky darkness, for, where Dudley lay, the long line of picketed horses cast a dense shadow. The man patted another horse, which had turned an inquisitive head and had looked at the intruder with sleepy eyes. Then he sauntered away again and stood by the fire, till a shot in the forest caught his attention.
"At it again," he said aloud. "Perhaps that means that the end is coming, and our fellows are about to wipe the rascals out. Not that I don't think that they are plucky. They are quick, to be sure, and that trick they played would even have beaten our Indians. It was smart to dismount suddenly and take the very cover which our men had. I'll go and look on. I would not miss the end for anything."