"It was not his own gold mines, but those of a dreaded neighbour chief, that he had pointed out to the Spaniards on their first arrival," she declared; "and now he was noting with jealous eyes, and an angry heart, the preparations of the white strangers for taking up their abode on his territories."
Poor Cacique! Had he known the dismal fate that was so speedily to overwhelm him and all he cherished, his jealousy and wrath must have burnt with a fierceness to consume his heart. But for the moment the Spaniards were but a handful of men in an unknown and populous country; moreover, the water in the river had fallen, dry weather had set in, and threatened to continue, the bar at the river's mouth was visible at low tide, and the ships were shut in beyond the possibility of present escape. It behoved the Admiral and his band of followers to be careful, and each individual felt it incumbent on him personally to watch for the safety of all; even to sleep, as the saying is, like a dog with one eye open.
Under these circumstances it is little wonder that Mendez noticed with some uneasiness the unusual gravity of Montoro's face one morning, after a short interview with his Indian patient, and the child's mother.
"Hey, then, master Long-face" he exclaimed, with half-affected gaiety, "say, what treason is it thou hast been concocting with thy dark friend yonder? Hath she been offering thee the kingdom of the Cacique Quibian, if thou wilt engage to share the throne with her?"
Montoro threw back his head for an instant haughtily. Boy as he was, he did not like such jests. But he too much admired Diego Mendez for his anger against him to be long-lived. Besides, he had a weight upon his mind of which he desired to unburden himself. After the momentary pause, he said hastily—
"The woman's communication, Señor Mendez, had no reference to me further than as I am one of us. But if I at all rightly comprehend her signs, this Quibian, the Cacique of Veragua, under his smoothness to us has designs of the deepest treachery. Even now I believe that we are being surrounded on all sides by his warriors."
Señor Mendez stroked his chin thoughtfully. To say truth, he was deeply startled by the suspicion thus presented to him; but he was a Spaniard, and therefore chary of displays of any other emotion than that of pride. Moreover, he was a notary by profession, and had thus learnt caution: to hear all he could, to see all he could, to think much, and to say little.
His meditations were undisturbed by Montoro. At last he took the boy by the arm, leading him farther away from their companions before he said quietly—
"You have done well, my namesake, in bringing your tale to me. Let it rest there for the present, and see that you show the woman no great belief of her news, and no shadow even of a fear."
"But—" began Montoro eagerly, and then he stopped as suddenly as he had begun.