"And now," the Mexican said, after lighting his cigarette, "I will, with your permission, explain to you why I was so anxious to see you."
"One moment," one of the hunters answered. "You know that in the deserts the leaves have often eyes, and the trees ears. If I am not mistaken in your hints, you invited us here that our interview might be secret."
"In truth, I have the greatest interest in nothing of what is said here being overheard, or even suspected."
"Very good. Curumilla, to work."
The second hunter rose, seized his rifle and disappeared noiselessly in the gloom. His absence was rather long; but as long as it lasted, the two men left at the fire did not exchange a syllable. In about half an hour the hunter returned, however, and seated himself by his comrades' side.
"Well?" the one who had sent him off asked him.
"My brother can speak," he replied laconically; "the desert is quiet."
On this assurance the three men banished all anxiety. Still prudence did not abandon them: they took up their pipes, and turned their backs to the fire, so that they might watch the neighbourhood while conversing.
"We are ready to listen to you," the first hunter said.
"Listen to me with the greatest attention," the Mexican began; "what you are about to hear is of the utmost importance."