[CHAPTER XVI.]
TREACHERY.
The return was dull, the general was plunged in profound reflections, caused by his conversation with the trapper. Doña Luz was thinking of the warning that had been given her; the guide embarrassed by the two conversations of Black Elk with the general, had a secret presentiment, which told him to keep on his guard. The two lanceros alone rode on carelessly, ignorant of the drama that was being played around them, and thinking but of one thing—the repose which awaited them on regaining the camp.
The Babbler incessantly cast anxious looks around him, appearing to seek for auxiliaries amidst the thickets which the little party passed silently through.
Day was drawing to a close; it would not be long before the sun disappeared, and already the mysterious denizens of the forest at intervals sent forth dull roarings.
"Are we still far from the camp?" the general said, all at once.
"No," the guide replied; "scarcely an hour's ride."
"Let us mend our speed, then; I should not like to be surprised by the night in this woody country."
The troop fell into a quick trot, which, in less than half an hour, brought them to the first barricades of the camp.