"Certainly, Cacami; I desire that you will speak freely; was it not so, I should not have asked for your opinion," was the assuring reply.
"Oza would, no doubt, conduct us to the spot where he last saw his master, and, if necessary, to Menke's," he proceeded to say; "but, tzin Euet, there are other considerations to be taken into account, which make the course I would suggest more preferable. If I get a correct impression from your rehearsal of Oza's report, the prince's disappearance occurred within a few leagues of the mountaineer Tezcot's home, a man with whom I had the satisfaction of spending two very pleasant evenings and one day the last time I was on the mountains. My plan would be to go directly to Tezcot's. If the prince has been discovered he will, very likely, be apprised of it; if not, he can give us any information we may want, for he knows every mountaineer on that range and every foot of ground for leagues around; and, by the way, is the most generous of hosts."
"Master," said Oza suddenly and eagerly, interrupting Cacami, "I heard Menke speak to the prince about a great hunter named Tezcot."
"There, tzin Euet!" exclaimed Cacami; "that certainly strengthens the plausibility of my plan. Then think of the fact that a hospitable reception will be given us, with the added pleasure of meeting two charming maidens."
"Your last information, O Cacami, commends the course you propose to our serious consideration. We will go directly to Tezcot's, as you suggest," said the tzin, facetiously.
The point of destination having been decided upon, preparations for an early departure were begun at once. In two days the party was ready to start. The tzin and Cacami were dressed and equipped as hunters, while Oza, in fresh attire, after a good rest and cleaning up, looked like another person, and accompanied them as an attendant. Hunting parties were a common, every-day sight on the streets and highways, consequently their appearance in leaving the city attracted only a passing notice. They stopped at the villa, on their way out, to refresh themselves and say good-by to Teochma and Itlza. We will not pause to narrate what transpired there, or describe the parting, except to say: Let the reader imagine a mother's deep concern for her son; a sister and sweetheart's pale, sad face as the brother and lover take their leave, the latter showing no signs of the feelings which fill his breast, save those which Itlza alone is permitted to see; an affectionate waving of hands as the young men go out of sight, and the moments of sadly thoughtful silence which follow.
Almost two days of continued walking, much of the journey over a rough and hilly way, found Euetzin and his party nearing their destination. The sun of the last afternoon seemed, to the tired wayfarers, to move reluctantly away from the meridian, and to finally approach, at a snail's pace, the western horizon. Time may appear to pass quickly or slowly, yet it is unchangeable, and Old Sol, its mighty keeper, marks, with unerring regularity, the recurring periods of morning and evening. So, on this day, the latter came in due season, and with it, stealing softly over the scene, the gray and sombre light which precedes the slowly falling night-shades in the mountains, followed by the inharmonious and strikingly dismal croaking of the multi-vociferous heralds of night, rising from mountain pools and gorges, with an added gloom from the doleful notes of the whippoorwill. Such were the last hours and ending of the journey, which our friends had accomplished, when Cacami suddenly exclaimed:
"We are through at last, for yonder house is the mountaineer's home."
Then, falling behind, he continued: