The situation momentarily became more critical; already several horses had been precipitated into the gulf, and it was with extreme difficulty that men and horses could resist the efforts of the tempest, which every moment threatened to carry them away.
However, after some minutes, which appeared to be an age, the two men again heard the cry.
This time it appeared nearer; it was sharp and perfectly distinct.
"It is a cry to help us," said Don Zeno, with joy.
And placing his two hands at the corners of his mouth, so as to carry his voice, he immediately answered by a cry not less shrill, which swept on the wind, echoed and re-echoed, to die away at a great distance.
"You are sure that is a cry to help us that we have just heard?" said the Pincheyra.
"Yes, thank God, it is," answered Zeno Cabral; "and now let us to work, for if we escape from here, master, we shall escape safe and sound; you may take my word for it."
Don Pablo shook his head sadly.
"You still doubt," pursued the hardy partisan in a tone of disdain. "Perhaps you are afraid?"
"Yes, I am afraid," candidly said the Pincheyra; "and I do not think there is anything humiliating in that avowal. I am but a man after all—very weak, and very humble before the anger of God; I cannot prevent my nerves from trembling, nor my heart from sinking."