But the ruminations of all four were rudely shattered after they had ridden a short distance. They were now traversing a narrow plateau at the foot of some rugged mountains. It was from these hills that the new peril had manifested itself. As he gazed upward, their guide wheeled his horse and rode off for his life in the direction whence they had come.
A troop of horsemen was riding down the hillside rapidly toward them. There were evidently two hundred or more in the body. Suddenly their leader gave a shout. It was easily interpreted by the travelers as a signal to halt.
With very apprehensive feelings regarding what was to come, the Americans reined in. In the hands of the insurgents they knew their lives would not be worth a moment’s purchase.
CHAPTER XXIII.
WITH THE COSTAVEZAN CAVALRY.
But their apprehension was speedily relieved. Ned it was who first sighted, carried far back in the ranks of the approaching horsemen, the red, white and blue flag of the republic, with its golden star blazing on the central white band. Never had a flag seemed more welcome to them than this gaudy banner of a South American republic.
The leader of the troop, a young man whom they learned later was Colonel Julio Lazard, galloped up to them with a flourish. The Americans all saluted as he pulled up his horse, a fine, black steed, furnished with a high-peaked, chased-leather saddle and bridle, silver ornamented.
“Americans!” he exclaimed in fair English. “Gentlemen, this is a happy encounter.”