"My friends," the hunter said to the Mexicans, "this is what we have resolved on: you three, alone, will be mounted. Each of you will lead one of our horses, so that we may mount at the first signal. The two chiefs and myself will march on foot, in order to let no sign escape us. You will keep two hundred yards, behind us: and as I noticed that there are at this moment a great many trumpeter swans in the river, that will be our rallying cry. All this is arranged?"
"Yes," the three gentlemen answered unanimously.
"Good! now to set out, and try never to let us out of sight."
"Be at your ease, my friend, about that," the general said; "we have too great an interest in not quitting you. Canarios! what would become of us alone, lost in this confounded desert?"
"Come, come, something tells me that we shall succeed," Valentine said gaily, "so we will have courage."
"May heaven grant you are not mistaken, my friend," Don Miguel said sadly. "My poor child!"
"We will deliver her. I have followed a more difficult trail before now."
With these consolatory words, the two Indians and the hunter set out. Instead of taking Indian file, as ordinarily adopted on the prairie, and marching one after the other, they spread like a fan, in order to have a greater space to explore, and not lose the slightest indication. So soon as the scouts were at the arranged distance, the Mexicans mounted and followed them, being careful not to let them out of sight, as far as was possible.
When Valentine told Don Miguel that he had followed more difficult trails, he was either boasting, or, as is more probable, judging from his frank character, he wished to restore hope to his friend.
In order to follow a trail, it must exist. Red Cedar was too old a wood ranger to neglect the slightest precaution, for he knew too well that, however large the desert may be, a man habituated to cross it always Succeeds in finding the man he is pursuing.