The gauchos understood the raillery, and frowned.
"Is it to babble like drivelling old women, or to talk on serious matters, like true men, that we are here?" asked Mataseis in a sulky tone.
"That is good, señor caballero!" cried Don Pablo laughing. "¡Vive Dios! How you take fire at an innocent joke!"
"I don't call that joking," said the gaucho drily.
"Come, calm yourself, valiant caballero; I shall be henceforth serious as an Indian chief, as you wish it; well then, I think it will be best not to light a fire."
"Then, do not light it—it is quite indifferent to me; but though the conversation may be a short one, we shall be benumbed with cold by the time it is over."
"I do not say no, but prudence demands that we take the greatest precautions. We are not here on an open hill, where the eye, ranging without hindrance on either side, enables the approach of an enemy to be seen by the simple undulation of the grass. We are, on the contrary, crouched like wolves in the underwood, enveloped on all sides by walls of foliage. Remember the axiom of the desert, the justice of which has many a time been shown: 'In the forest, trees have ears, and leaves have eyes;' how can we know that spies are not roaming about in the shadows? The light of a cigar would be enough to attract them; the matters of which we have to converse are too grave for us to run the risk, when we can avoid it, of being surprised and overheard."
"You are right; I will not argue any more. Now I beg you come to the point without more delay."
"Are you free?"
"Free as birds; free as air."