"Wait a minute," the majordomo said, frowning like a man who is collecting his thoughts; "you are right, I have never been to that village, it is true, but I have often heard it spoken of. Is not one of the chiefs a white man?"
The hunter blushed slightly.
"So people say," he answered.
"Is it not strange," the majordomo continued, "that a white man should consent to abandon entirely the society of his fellows to live with savages?"
"Why so?"
"Hang it! Because the Indians are devoid of reason, as everybody knows."
The hunter gave his companion a glance of indefinable meaning, slightly shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply; probably from the reason that he had too much to say, and considered the majordomo's rather heavy mind incapable of appreciating it. The day passed without any occurrences to interrupt the monotony of their ride, which they continued with great speed till night, only stopping from time to time to shoot a few birds for supper. Galloping, talking, and smoking, they at length reached the spot where they intended to bivouac. The road they had followed in no way resembled the one the majordomo had taken on leaving the hacienda, although they were returning in the direction of Arispe. This resulted from the fact that Paredes had kept in the regular road, while this time the two men rode Indian fashion, that is to say, straight ahead without troubling themselves about roads. They galloped on as the bird flies, crossing mountains and swimming rivers whenever they came to them, without losing time in seeking a ford.
This mode of travelling, generally adopted by the wood rangers of the savannah, where the only roads are tracks made by the wild beasts, would not be possible in civilized countries, where there are so many towns and villages; but in Mexico, especially on the Indian border, towns are excessively rare: by riding in this way distances are marvellously shortened and a considerable tract is covered between two sunrises. This is what happened to the two adventurers; for in one day they went a greater distance than Paredes had done in eight-and-forty hours, though he was well mounted. At night they camped in a wood beyond the Hacienda del Toro, which building they saw rising gloomy and tranquil like an eagle's nest on the top of its rock, and they passed close to it during the afternoon.
The country assumed a wilder and more abrupt aspect; the grass was thicker, the trees were larger, older, and closer together; it was evident that the travellers were at the extreme limit of civilization, and would soon find themselves in the Red territory, although nominally, at least on the maps, this territory figured among the possessions of the Mexican Confederation. This feature, by the way, is found everywhere throughout the New World. Even in the United States, which pretend, erroneously, we believe, to be more civilized than their neighbours, towns with high-flown names may be seen on the maps of their large possessions, which only exist in reality as a name painted on a solitary post, planted in the centre of a plain or on the bank of a river, without even a keeper to watch over the preservation of this post, which, worn by wind and sun, eventually disappears, though the town never sprung up in its place. During our travels we were too often the victim of this humorous Yankee mystification not to feel angry with this eccentric nation, which repeats to every newcomer that it marches at the head of civilization, and has a mission to regenerate the New World.
The two men, after lighting their watch fire, supped with good appetite, rolled themselves in their zarapés, and fell asleep, trusting to the instinct of their horses to warn them of the approach of any enemy, whether man or wild beast, that attempted to surprise them during their slumbers. But nothing disturbed them; the night was quiet; at sunrise they awoke, mounted, and continued their journey, which would only take a few hours longer.