But Don Zeno Cabral was not only a good-hearted man, but one of those energetic natures, immovable in their convictions, who are rather excited than discouraged by obstacles, and who, rising with the danger, always find themselves on a level with the situation, whatever it may be, in which they are placed. At the break of day his resolution was taken—to save his country from the ruin with which it was threatened, whatever might be the consequences to himself. His plan carefully laid, he immediately proceeded to execute it. But as the Montonero was as prudent and wily as he was brave, notwithstanding the boundless confidence which he had in his companions, he allowed them to remain ignorant of the facts which had transpired in their absence. After having exacted from the scout that brought him the news a solemn promise to keep what he had learned a profound secret, he left his squadron, and boldly proceeded towards the low-lying ground, so as to obtain personally the information which was indispensable to him to put his projects into execution, maintaining some reserve, however, in case it might afterwards be necessary to fully acquaint his soldiers with all the facts, certain of the support that they would be sure to give him.
A journey through the Cordilleras was nothing for Zeno Cabral, whose whole life had been passed in the Pampas.
But it was only towards the evening of the third day after his departure from the camp that he at last reached the plains, at the moment when the sun sank behind the horizon, and darkness began to envelope the landscape.
Zeno Cabral, fatigued by a long march, immediately sought a favourable spot to establish his camp.
The search was not long. Before him, a rather broad river, with ripples like emeralds, wound its devious course. Like an experienced man who had long known the localities which he traversed, the Montonero proceeded towards some rather high ground which projected itself into the bed of the river, and the barren tops and sides of which offered a safe refuge against stragglers—men or beasts—who in these llanos (plains) are incessantly on the watch for travellers.
[CHAPTER XII.]
A DOUBLE DUEL.
Although the Montonero had gained, thanks to the rapidity with which he travelled, the temperate climate of the Cordilleras, and already, felt, during the day, considerable heat, the nights were, nevertheless, cold and even frosty. The traveller was no further concerned about this fact, than to envelope himself carefully in his poncho, his blankets, and his pellones, before going to sleep. But, notwithstanding all these precautions, towards midnight the north wind became so sharp and the cold so piercing, that Don Zeno awoke, and after a desperate attempt to get to sleep again, was constrained to admit himself vanquished; he leaped up, half-frozen, from under his coverings, and proceeded to seat himself near the half-extinguished fire.