“I am here,” answered the Indian, drawing near to the old woman.
“Then listen attentively, Arima, and mark well what I say,” commanded the Mama. She spoke to him for a full minute or more in the Indian tongue, of which Escombe comprehended enough to understand that she was describing what might be termed the bearings of the spot where Butler lay exhausted and senseless, Arima nodding his head understanding and murmuring here and there a word of comprehension as she went on. Her description ended, she paused for a few seconds, then murmured: “It is enough. Now let me awake, for I am old. I have wandered afar, and the journey has wearied me.”
Whereupon, after an interval of a minute or two, she slowly opened her eyes, stared about her vacantly for a little, and finally said: “Ah, yes, I remember! I was to tell you something, Señor. Have you learned what you desired to know?”
“Yes, thanks,” answered Harry, “always provided, of course, that—that,”—he was about to say—“that your information is reliable”; but substituted for those somewhat ungracious words—“that Arima can find the spot which you have described to him.”
“Think you that you can find it, Arima?” demanded the old woman.
“Yes, Mama Cachama,” answered Arima, “I shall find it without doubt; for I have listened attentively to all that you have said, and already know the direction generally, in which to seek it, while the particulars which you have given me are so explicit that I can scarcely miss the exact spot.”
“That is well,” approved Cachama. Then, turning to Escombe, she said: “And now, Señor, if you will remain with me for the rest of the day and the coming night it will give me pleasure, and I will do my best for your comfort; the afternoon is wellnigh spent, and if, as I understood you to say, you started from your camp shortly after daybreak this morning, you can scarcely return to it ere nightfall, and the way is a rough and dangerous one to travel in the darkness.”
“Nevertheless, with many thanks for your hospitable offer, I must go,” answered Harry, “for the matter is urgent, as you must know, for your last words to me were that if I would find my—friend with the life still in him I must hasten.”
“Nay, amigo, I know nothing of what I told you while in my state of trance,” answered the old woman; “but, whatever it may have been, you may depend that it was true; therefore if I bade you hasten, it is certain that hasten you must, and in that case it would be no kindness in me to urge you to stay. Yet you will not go until you have again eaten and drank.”
“Thanks again, Mama,” answered Harry, “but I fear we must. As you have said, the afternoon is far advanced, and there is therefore all the more reason why we should make the best possible use of every remaining moment of daylight. If you will excuse us, therefore, we will bid you adios and go forthwith. You have rendered me an inestimable service, Mama, for which mere words of thanks seem a very inadequate recompense, yet I will not offend you by offering any other reward. Still, if there is a way—”