"I conclude that these fires Have been lit by Don Torribio's gauchos; and that they are signals."
"Stay, stay, that is logical, my friend, and you may be right perhaps; but what do we care?"
"Those signals tell that Don Valentine Cardoso and his daughter have left Carmen."
"You spoke to me about that, I think? Well, I do not care about Don Torribio knowing of my departure."
A sudden cry was heard, and the mules stopped with trembling limbs.
"What is going on down there?" Blas asked.
"A cougar, a cougar!" the arrieros shouted in horror.
"Canario, it is true," the capataz said, "but instead of one there are two."
About two hundred yards ahead of the caravan two cougars (the Felis discolor or Linnaeus, or American lion), were drawn up ready for a spring, with their eyes fixed on the mules. These animals, still young, were about the size of a calf; the head bore a great likeness to that of a cat, and their skins, smooth and soft, of a silvery tawny, were spotted with black.
"Come on," Don Valentine exclaimed, "uncouple the dogs, and let us have a hunt."