"It is my fault," Leon continued, with an oath. "I am an ass. We have made a long voyage for nothing, and I ought to have expected it, for with the English it is impossible to gain one's livelihood. I am sure that we should have done our business famously at Copiapó, and we were only eight leagues from there."
"That's true," said the half-breed; "and I cannot think how the mad idea occurred to us of coming, with thirty loaded mules, from Chanoccillo to Valparaíso."
"Well, what is done is done, my friend; but we lose one thousand piastres."
"Vaya pués. Captain, I promise you that I will make the first Englishman I catch on the sierra pay dearly for our misadventure. I would not give an ochavo for the life of the man who comes within range of my rifle."
"Another glass," said Leon, as he seized the bottle, and poured the last of the spirit into the glasses.
"Here's your health," said the half-breed, and raising his glass, he emptied it at a draught, and then put it back on the table, heaving a deep sigh.
"Now, Diego of my soul, let us be off, as nothing keeps us here any longer."
"Caray, captain, I am ready. I am anxious to reach the mountains, for my health fails me in these poisoned holes which are called towns."
"Where are our lads?"
"Near the Rio Claro, and so well hidden that the fiend himself could not discover them."