"Oh, silence, Mariano!" the young lady said, with a shudder; "I almost went mad with terror when I saw the eyes of the horrible animals fixed upon me. Oh! Had it not been for this brave and honest hunter, I should have been lost."
"Brave and honest, indeed!" the tigrero, said, with frank affection; "You are right, señorita, for Stronghand might just as fairly be called Goodheart, for he is ever so ready to assist strangers, and relieve the unfortunate."
Doña Marianna listened with lively pleasure to this praise of the man who had saved her life; but Stronghand felt terribly embarrassed, and suffered in his heart at a deed which he thought so simple, and which he was so delighted to have done, being rated so highly.
"Come, come, Mariano," he said, in order to cut short the young man's compliments, "we cannot remain here any longer; remember that while we are quietly resting by the fireside and talking nonsense, this young lady's father and brother are suffering from deadly anxiety, and scouring the plain without any hope of finding her. We must arrange how to get away from here as soon as possible, and return to the hacienda."
"Caray, master, you are right, as usual; but what is to be done? Both you and I are on foot, and we cannot dream for a moment that the señorita could walk such a distance."
"Oh, I am strong," she said with a smile; "under your escort, my friends, I fear nothing, and can walk."
"No, señorita," the hunter said, with an accent of gentle authority, "your strength would betray your courage; on so dark a night, and in a forest like this, a man accustomed to desert life could hardly expect to walk without falling at every step. Put yourself in our hands, for we know better than you do what is best to be done under the circumstances."
"Very good," she answered; "act as you think proper. I have suffered enough already today, by refusing to listen to the advice of my tocayo, to prevent me being obstinate now."
"That is the way to talk," the tigrero said gaily. "What are we going to do, Stronghand?"
"While you skin the jaguars—for I suppose you do not wish to leave them as they are—"