“No sleep to-night, Harry,” said my uncle, cheerfully. “We must all watch, for the Indians will not be satisfied till they have thoroughly ransacked the place.”
“Of course we shall beat them off if possible; but what arrangements have you made for retreat?” I said.
Without a word, my uncle led me into the kitchen of the hacienda, where he had stabled four mules, with plenty of fodder.
“We must get off unseen if we can, my lad,” he said, “and the mules will carry plenty of ammunition and food. But about water?”
“Plenty at the cavern,” I said.
“Good!” exclaimed my uncle. “And now look here, Harry,” he said, leading me to the inner room, and taking down a map, “show me, as nearly as you can, where the cavern lies which contains all this rich treasure.”
I examined the map as carefully as I could, and then pointed out the valley in which it seemed to me that, if the map were correct, the cavern must lie.
“You say there is water?” said my uncle—“a stream?”
“Yes, a little rivulet.”
“Then that must run down to this river. Good! And here again this river joins the great Apure, which, in its turn, runs into the Orinoco. Once well afloat, we should be pretty safe, and we could reach the mouth of the great river, and from there Georgetown, Demerara. Why, Harry, it could not be above a dozen miles from the mouth of your cave to the water-way that should see us safe on the road homeward.”