“What does he say?”
“He says that at any price we must hold out till daybreak. The AGUARA only prowls about at night, and goes back to his lair with the first streak of dawn. It is a cowardly beast, that loves the darkness and dreads the light—an owl on four feet.”
“Very well, let us defend ourselves, then, till morning.”
“Yes, my boy, and with knife-thrusts, when gun and shots fail.”
Already Thalcave had set the example, for whenever a wolf came too near the burning pile, the long arm of the Patagonian dashed through the flames and came out again reddened with blood.
But very soon this means of defense would be at an end. About two o’clock, Thalcave flung his last armful of combustibles into the fire, and barely enough powder remained to load a gun five times.
Glenarvan threw a sorrowful glance round him. He thought of the lad standing there, and of his companions and those left behind, whom he loved so dearly.
Robert was silent. Perhaps the danger seemed less imminent to his imagination. But Glenarvan thought for him, and pictured to himself the horrible fate that seemed to await him inevitably. Quite overcome by his emotion, he took the child in his arms, and straining him convulsively to his heart, pressed his lips on his forehead, while tears he could not restrain streamed down his cheeks.
Robert looked up into his face with a smile, and said, “I am not frightened.”
“No, my child, no! and you are right. In two hours daybreak will come, and we shall be saved. Bravo, Thalcave! my brave Patagonian! Bravo!” he added as the Indian that moment leveled two enormous beasts who endeavored to leap across the barrier of flames.