It took some little while for them to make their way back to the horses which they had left away on the pampas, for a flat grass plain gives little idea of direction, and a dark but fine night does not help a man out of the difficulty if he happen to have spent all his days in one of our British towns. But Pepito could read the heavens as easily as Dudley could absorb a book, and he quickly decided where the horses lay. They strode on for a long while in silence, and then the gaucho gave an exclamation of satisfaction.
"As I thought," he said. "Pietro and the boys are there, and have taken charge of our beasts. We shall soon be with them."
He gave a low whistle when they arrived within a shorter distance of the dark group which suddenly appeared, dull and ill-defined, against the starlit sky, and at once the signal was answered. Pietro rode forward, leading their two horses.
"What news?" he asked. "The men here are full of excitement, and are eager to attack. How do the enemy lie?"
Dudley explained the situation in a few short sentences, while the gauchos gathered round and drank in his words.
"Everything seems to be in favor of this attack, señor," said Pietro at length. "There remains now only the necessary orders. We are here to obey, as I have already intimated. We wait for the señor's commands. He has seen this Indian camp, he knows how the enemy is placed, and no doubt he has already made his plans."
"I have," came the short answer, "and I want all to listen. The enemy are to the right of the cattle from where we lie now, and that is, of course, the position in which we shall attack them. I think you will all agree with me that when this attack is made it must be fierce and sudden, and must be carried through."
There was a grunt of approval from the listening gauchos, who edged a little closer.
"That is agreed. We have to press this attack home. Now, I think there are about fifty of us."
"Forty-eight, señor," came the swift correction from Pietro.