In the meantime the curiosity of the Mexicans was strongly excited. They comprehended that serious danger was impending, and that the hunter was planning means to avert it; but now that they had excellent weapons, horns full of powder, and balls, they looked at their position in a new light, and, although their anxiety was still great, they did not despair of being able to escape from the snares laid for their feet.
The hunter, after remaining motionless as a statue for nearly half an hour, raised his head, calculated the time by the shadows of the trees, and said, rising with some impetuosity,
"To horse; it is time to go."
The horses were soon saddled, and the travellers in their seats.
"You will march in Indian file," continued the hunter; "follow exactly in my steps."
Instead of advancing in the direction he had taken hitherto, he rode his horse into the rivulet, the course of which he followed until he reached a spot where two other brooks contributed their waters. Stoneheart chose the left hand brook, and followed its windings. The Mexicans closely imitated this manoeuvre, riding in Indian file—the head of each horse at the crupper of the one in front of him.
The heat was stifling in the covert, where the circulation of the air, impeded by the foliage, was scarcely perceptible. The deepest calm prevailed through the forest; the birds, nestled under the leaves, had ceased their songs; and nothing was heard but the monotonous humming of innumerable myriads of mosquitoes hovering about the marshes.
In the meantime the brook they were following increased by degrees till it assumed the character of a river. Here and there, already, black chicots (trees uprooted and carried down by the rivers, often forming serious obstacles to navigation) began to make their appearance, on which rosy flamingoes and herons stood on one leg; the banks right and left became steeper, and the horses for some time past had been obliged to swim.
This unknown river, whose blue waters had never reflected anything but the azure of the skies and the green dome formed by the trees capriciously bending over its banks, presented to the eye a grand and majestic sight, impressing the mind with a kind of melancholy calm and religious awe.
The travellers, silent as phantoms, continued their journey, swimming slowly down the middle of the river, close at the heels of their guide, whose eagle glance explored its banks. Arriving at a place where an immense rock rose like a solitary watchtower, and formed an immense vault overhanging the stream, Stoneheart slipped from his horse, whose bridle he gave to Don Pedro, and swam under the arch, making a sign to the others to pursue their course. He soon reappeared in one of those Indian canoes which are built of birch bark, detached by means of boiling water, and whose lightness is unequalled. With a few strokes of the paddle he reached the travellers; the latter climbed into the canoe, and their horses, relieved from the weight of their riders, were able to swim with greater ease.