The men separated—Cucharés to commence a long journey, and Don Martial to return to his camping ground. But they were mistaken in supposing that no one had overheard their conversation. They had scarce quitted the island in different directions ere, from a thicket of dahlias and floripondins growing at the entrance of the grotto, a hideous head was thrust out cautiously, and looked around; then, at the end of a moment, the bushes were further parted, and an Apache Indian, painted and armed for war appeared. It was the Black Bear.
"Wah!" he muttered with a menacing gesture, "the palefaces are dogs. The Apache warriors will follow their trail."
Then, after keeping his eyes fixed for a few instants on the star-spangled sky, he entered the grotto.
In the meanwhile the Tigrero had regained the encampment. Doña Anita, rendered restless by so long an absence, was awaiting him with the most lively anxiety.
"Well?" she asked, running up as soon as she saw him.
"Good news?" he answered.
"Oh, I was so frightened!"
"I thank you. It was as I expected. The signal was intended for me."
"Then?"
"I found a friend, who gave me the means to quit the false position in which we are."