The Guide of the Desert

by Gustave Aimard

The only thing he feared was to be perceived by the Indian sentinels, who, without doubt, were in ambush in the neighbouring woods.

But luck did not desert him in this last and desperate effort.

Arrived at a short distance from the thicket he wished to reach, Diogo glided between two streams. For that matter, this precaution was, let us hasten to say, not necessary; it was not the river (on which they had nothing to fear) that the Guaycurus watched, but only the hill where their enemies were to be found.

Diogo glided then, without encumbrance, into the thicket, opened the hole he had made to conceal his clothes, and drew them out with a thrill of delight; but instead of clothing himself with them, he made a packet of them, as well as of his arms, and again entered the river.

This mode of travelling appeared to him shorter and safer.

In order not to attract too much attention to himself, the captain had enveloped his packet in palm leaves, and had fastened the whole upon his head. Thus, as he swam, on the level of the water, this packet appeared to be drifting gently with the current; from the bank, it had completely the appearance of a mass of leaves and branches.

He soon reached the foot of the hill; there he was safe, and he could only be seen by the persons whom chance might have brought to the other bank.

After having calculated with a look the height he would have to ascend, and elevating himself almost perpendicularly above the river, the captain took in one hand his poignard, and in the other the knife confided to him by Tarou Niom as a sign of recognition, and began, with extreme ease and dexterity, to scale this kind of wall, planting by turns his weapons in the fissures of the rocks, and then pulling himself up by mere strength of wrist.

The ascent of the captain was long. At one time he remained suspended between heaven and earth, without being able either to mount or descend. But Diogo was a man endowed with too much coolness and courage to despair; a moment of reflection made him perceive a declivity less rough than that which he was pursuing.

Arrived on the platform of the hill, he made a halt for a moment to take breath. His difficult expedition had, against all probability, terminated happily; the information he had gained was important; all then was for the best, and he inwardly congratulated himself, not on the manner in which he had conducted this perilous affair, but on the pleasure that his return would give his companions.