“Thy brain is troubled, Graviel. Dost thou not recall last night’s events, when Inacayal and his warriors departed to fight the hated Cristianos on the northern borders? All are gone save the women, children, and the wounded men. So this is how thou hast safeguarded thy charge; and how will Aniwee greet thee on her return?”

A low wail of intense anguish burst from the young Indian, and he covered his face with his hand. But here Mary interposed, and questioned Graviel in Spanish as to what had happened.

No sooner had the miserable youth explained the situation, than the quick-witted girl made up her mind as to the course to be adopted.

“Graviel,” she exclaimed, “we must mount and scour the country all around. Maybe we shall obtain traces of the lost child. At least, let us try. Both I and my brother will accompany you, and do all we can to help you in this moment of fearful trial. Will you see to the horses being saddled? And meanwhile we will get ready our guns and ammunition. But haste, Graviel; let us not waste a moment.”

Still dazed and suffering from the drug which had been administered to him overnight, Graviel hurried off, and summoning several boys to his assistance, sent them to drive up the troupiglia of horses that grazed not far off. Quickly three of them were caught and saddled, and led round to the chief tolderia, where Mary and Willie stood ready equipped for the expedition.

Inside the moans of Blancha could still be heard, mingled with the feeble cries of the poor little substituted baby, who had been made the innocent tool of the wicked Inacayal’s ambition. Guaitu was hurrying to and fro, arousing the still sleeping camp, and making a great show of grief and consternation, which he was far from feeling, and endeavouring to collect volunteers to accompany him in a search expedition, which he knew perfectly well beforehand would prove futile.

In the midst of the confusion caused by his announcement, Graviel, Willie, and Mary rode out of the camp, bent on a search which had all the appearance of a forlorn hope.

CHAPTER XII.