"Oh, oh! And what makes you suppose that, my friend? I see, absolutely, nothing to suspect."
"That is because you do not look above you, my friend. In the desert, and especially in the mountain, a track is marked in the trees, and not on the ground."
"But as to ourselves, It appears to me we simply follow the path."
"And we are wrong, my friend. On our entrance into the wood, we ought only to have advanced from branch to branch on the trees; our horses will betray us. Unhappily, what you and I could do, with some chance of success, the ladies who accompany us could not attempt."
"If what you say is very true, our efforts will only end in retarding our capture."
"Perhaps so, perhaps not, my friend; if God only gives us till tomorrow at noon, we shall probably be saved."
"How is that?"
"Look here; this path goes towards the desert of the Frentones. The Frentones are, especially, enemies of the whites, to whatever country they belong; but they are good and hospitable to travellers. If we succeed in reaching their territory, we shall be comparatively in safety."
"Very good; and you expect to reach this territory tomorrow?"
"No; but we shall find ourselves nearly on the banks of the river Primero, and might set ourselves adrift on a raft."