"Eh! Eh!" said the Brazilian general, addressing a captain who was riding by his side, "I think those are our people; what do you think of it?"
"I think so too, general," answered the officer; "come, that will set me right with them."
"Yes, they are men of their word; I think it augurs well for the result of our conference. Remember that we are very far from Tucumán, and that they must have made great haste to arrive here on the day."
"Just so, general; we are, if I am not deceived, on the territory of the Indian bravos, on neutral ground."
"Yes, you are right," answered the other, suddenly becoming pensive. "I think I have even a confused remembrance of these parts."
"You, general!"
"Yes, yes, but a long time ago; I was young then; I did not think Of taking service. Impelled by I know not what furious ardour, I traversed these desert regions in search of adventures—for my pleasure," he added.
The captain looked at him for a moment with an expression of gentle pity.
Some minutes thus passed. At last the general raised his head, and again addressing his aide-de-camp—that was the position that the captain occupied towards him:
"These gauchos are rude men, are they not, Don Sebastiao?" he asked.