"That is easy to see," the general remarked.
Valentine smiled, and looked at Curumilla, who shook his head.
"No," the hunter said. "It is a trick, but they shall not catch me."
Making his comrades a signal not to stir, Valentine turned his back to the river, and walked rapidly toward a tree covered hill a short distance off.
"Come!" he shouted, so soon as he reached the top. Several dead trees lay scattered in an open space. Aided by Curumilla, Valentine began removing them. The Mexicans, whose curiosity was aroused to an eminent degree, also lent a hand.
In a few minutes, several trees were rolled on one side. Valentine then removed the leaves, and discovered the remains of a fire, with the ashes still warm.
"Come, come," he said, "Red Cedar is not so clever as I thought."
Don Miguel, his son, and the general were astounded, but the hunter only smiled.
"It is nothing," he said. "But the shadow of the sun is already lengthening on the horizon, within three hours, it will be night; so remain here. When the gloom is thick, we will start again."
They bivouacked.