The hunter stopped, for he felt giddy, and almost ready to fall off his horse. About two miles from him, but separated from the spot where he stood by an impassable canyon, an immense esplanade stretched out into space in the shape of a voladero; that is to say, in consequence of one of those earthquakes so common in these regions, the base of the mountain had been undermined, while the crest remained intact, and hung for a considerable distance above a valley, apparently about to fall at any moment; the spectacle was at once imposing and terrific.
"Heaven forgive me!" the hunter muttered, "but I really believe I was frightened; I felt all my muscles tremble involuntarily. Oh! I will not look at it again; let us get along, my friend."
They set out again, still following the windings of the tract, which gradually grew steeper; and, after a very zigzag course, reached the terrace half an hour later.
"This is certainly the place," the hunter exclaimed, as he pointed to the decaying embers of a watch fire.
"But your friends—?" the Tigrero asked.
"Did you not tell me there was a grotto close by?"
"I did."
"Well, they doubtless concealed themselves in the grotto when they heard us approaching."
"That is possible."
"It is true: look."