Indeed, the caravan began to descend the slope of the mountain, the path narrowed more and more, and a long conversation became absolutely impossible.
"Oh; curses on you," cried the marquis with rage.
The young girl only answered by a burst of mocking laughter. Don Roque made a last gesture of menace, and buried his spurs in the flanks of his horse.
The captain had brought to bear on his arrangements for the march the qualities both of a soldier and an experienced trapper.
The soldados da conquista, accustomed for a long period to make war on the Indians, had been placed in advance by him, and on the flanks of the caravan, under orders to clear the route, and to carefully watch the thickets both to the right and left.
The half-caste hunters, formed in a single compact troop, advanced, fusil on thigh and finger on trigger, with eye and ear on the watch.
The Negro slaves formed the rearguard.
The caravan, thus disposed, could not but present a considerably extended and imposing line. It was composed of fifty-five men in all, of whom about forty-five were resolute fellows, for a long time accustomed to track the desert, and who could be reasonably counted on in case of need. As to the other ten, they were Negro or mulatto slaves who had never seen fire.
The caravan slowly descended the mountain, its track cleared right and left by the soldiers sent out by the captain as scouts.
By degrees, as the travellers approached the desert, the landscape changed, and assumed a more imposing and grand aspect.