"They will both arrive directly," he said.
"How do you know?"
"Child!" Valentine interrupted him, "In the desert the human voice is more injurious than useful. The song of birds, the cry of wild beasts, serve us as a language."
"Yes," the young man answered simply, "that is true. I have often heard it stated; but I was not aware you could understand one another so easily."
"That is nothing," the hunter answered good-humouredly: "you will see much more if you only pass a month in our company."
In a few moments the sound of footsteps became audible, at first faint, then gradually coming nearer, and two shadows were dimly drawn on the night.
"Halloa!" Valentine shouted as he Raised and cocked his rifle, "friend or foe?"
"Pennis (brothers)," a voice answered.
"It is Curumilla," said Valentine. "Let us go to meet him."
Don Pablo followed him, and they soon reached the Indian, who walked slowly, obliged as he was to support, almost carry, the missionary.