Throughout the evening we rode silently side by side, while all around us was the awful stillness of a dead world. The sun went down, and presently the stars gleamed above us, throwing a ghostly light over the sea of sand.
Midnight found us still riding, and another hour passed before Castro drew rein at the broken track leading from Tacna to Arica. Throwing the reins over his horse's neck, and jumping down, he examined the ground carefully, reading it as skilfully as the student reads a printed book.
To and fro he went, casting off here and there like a hunting-dog, till he was satisfied. Then he returned to me, saying, "Carts have gone by hours since, and the infantry quite recently, but I see no signs of cavalry."
"They would remain till the last minute, so as to deceive La Hera."
"That is so; but the question is, has the colonel stayed with them? It is to him we want to give our information."
"The infantry can tell us."
"We shall waste time if he is in the rear, and time is precious."
"Let us separate. You go forward; I will ride toward Tacna."
"It is dangerous, señor."
"You forget that I have been over this route."