"If we follow this course half a kilometer farther we shall come out upon the road leading to Caro, which winds down from the mountains. Beyond, the country is infested with the insurgents, and we are likely to run upon them at every turn. If we keep on through Caro we shall soon come into the lower country, where we shall find a string of towns along the way, but the people, as a rule, unfriendly to us. If we bend to the left here we shall be able to make a short cut over the spur of the ridge and reach the region of Maracaibo without much risk of stirring up El Capitan's hornets. Which way shall we go, sergeant?"
"Our purpose is to learn all we can of the enemy," replied Ronie. "According to your account, we shall learn very little of them by keeping to the left. Neither are we especially anxious just at present to seek towns in the lower country. But we will go to Caro first."
"Si, Sergeant Rand," and without longer delay Riva Baez led the march forward again. Owing to the unfavorable conditions of the route, they had advanced slowly, and it was now past midnight. The moonbeams tipped the treetops with a silvery halo, but underneath this foliage it was so dark that our riders had to pick their way with constant caution, lest they should run into some trap of nature or set by the hand of an enemy that claimed this country as his own.
Nothing to cause them actual alarm, however, took place, and after a while Riva declared they were close down to Caro, which he described as lying in a narrow valley through which wound one of the numerous mountain streams watering the country. Upon receiving this intelligence, Ronie called a halt, and after a short consultation with his guide and Jack, he decided to enter the town alone with the former, leaving the others to await their return, unless called by a signal agreed upon. With this understanding he and the guide rode cautiously forward, the road overhung with the dense vegetation springing from a rich soil under most favoring conditions of the atmosphere.
A ride of less than five minutes, even at a slow pace, brought the two scouts in sight of the little hamlet made tip of coffee planters' homes. At that time the silence of sleep lay upon the place, no sound of night breaking the gentle murmur of the river flowing parallel with the road. Near the edge of the first plantation Ronie motioned for his companion to stop, when he slipped from the saddle to the ground.
"I am going to make a little exploration alone," he whispered. "Do you remain here with the horses. I will not be gone over ten minutes. If I am, you may understand that I am in trouble, and act at your own discretion."
"Look sharp, señors," warned Riva Baez. "No one seems to be astir, but, for all that, one of El Capitan's sharpshooters may be lying in wait to shoot you down like a jaguar."
"I have had a bit of experience among the Igorrotes of Luzon," replied Ronie, "and you can count upon me not running headlong into an ambush. What a beautiful night it is," he could not refrain from adding.
"If you think this is delightful, sergeant, you ought to witness a night on the Orinoco in the great rubber country of the south."
Without making any reply to this, Ronie stole silently forward upon foot, soon finding himself in the midst of the beehive homes of the small coffee planters. But not a soul seemed to occupy the primitive dwellings without doors or windows, but left free for the passage of the night breeze.