"I send you not on so perilous a quest, but you may go."
The faces of his hearers lighted up as though he had endowed them with some new-found gold mines, and with a hasty farewell from Montoro to his half-jealous friend Fernando, the two companions were rowed back again to land, and at once set out alone on their desperate expedition.
For nearly an hour they walked on rapidly side by side in silence. At last Montoro asked doubtfully,—
"Why keep we thus to the seaboard, Señor? Surely we have learnt that the residence of the Cacique is far away up yonder, beyond the forest. We should be turning inland if we wish to reach it."
Mendez turned his shrewd face towards his questioner with a slight smile.
"Ah, my friend, thou art bold and brave beyond thy years, and ready, to boot; but thou hast not yet quite an old head on thy shoulders, I perceive. If our foes are watching for our destruction as we suppose, how long thinkest thou, I and thou should live, bewildered, trapped, and helpless, in yonder jungle? No, we will keep to the shore till we reach the Veragua, and then we will follow the Veragua till it leads us to this Cacique's village, and his own abode. Light, and a clear space, are valuable to us just now."
Diego Mendez was willing to sacrifice his life freely for the general good, but he had no idea of wasting it. Montoro did not wish to waste his either, but to his impetuous nature this winding round, instead of making a straight dash, was becoming very tedious, when they at length reached the river's mouth, and at the same time came upon two canoes and a party of native fishermen. Whether subjects of Quibian or of his rival, the Spaniards could not ascertain, but whoever they were, they showed themselves so kind and hospitable that the tired and footsore pedestrians made signs to be taken into the canoes, when they were about to set out on their return voyage up the river.
Making sure of consent, the notary went so far as to put his foot on to the end of the canoe ready for stepping in. But the owners sprang forward to push him back, with most vigorous shakings of the head, and still more significant pointings towards the village, and the bundles of arrows in their own canoes.
Mendez and Montoro exchanged glances. There was no longer, then, much doubt of the fate intended them, and ere many minutes had passed they had learnt that the disconcerted warriors of last night were only waiting for the next day, before making a fresh descent upon the white intruders, shooting them, and burning the new settlement.
"Even so," said Diego Mendez at last. "We have but learnt afresh what we were well assured of before. But we will not wait for the doom intended us. It better beseems Spaniards to be the first aggressors."