The convictions of the hacendero were shaken by his daughter's earnest appeal. He dropped on the turf again, making a sign to his companion to do the like.
Doña Hermosa had not deceived herself. The noise she had heard was certainly the step—not perhaps of a horse, for it was slow and heavy, but at all events of an animal of great size. It was obviously approaching.
"Perhaps it is a grizzly bear," muttered the hacendero.
"Or a jaguar in search of prey," added the capataz in a low voice.
The anxiety of the travellers was intense. Abandoned in the forest, without arms to defend themselves, it was clear that they were lost if a wild beast should really attack them; for flight was impossible, as they knew not where to fly to.
"You are mistaken," said Doña Hermosa, who alone had preserved her presence of mind; "no danger threatens us. Look! The horses continue feeding without showing the least alarm."
"You are right," said Don Pedro; "they would have perceived the scent of a wild beast—have been mad with fear, and taken to flight before this."
Suddenly the bushes parted, and the hunter made his appearance, leading his horse by the bridle.
"I was sure of it," cried Doña Hermosa in triumph; while her father and the capataz cast down their eyes, blushing for shame.
The features of the hunter were as cold and impassive as they had been when he quitted the clearing, only their expression was more sombre. His horse carried on his back a heavy bundle, oblong in shape, carefully corded, and wrapped up in buffalo hide.