Chapter Thirty Four.
Attacked by Gymnoti.
Gaspar’s promise to give them a dinner of the three orthodox courses—fish, flesh, and fowl—was only meant in a jocular sense. For the flesh, their stock of charqui is not drawn upon; and as to fowl, the soldier-crane would be a still more unpalatable morsel. So it results in their dining simply upon fish; this not only without sauce, but swallowed at second-hand!
While they are occupied in the eating it, the gaucho, seeming more cheerful than usual, says:—
“I’ve a bit of good news for you, hijos mios.”
“Indeed! what?” is their eager inquiry.
“That we are still upon the right road. The redskins have gone past here, as I supposed they would.”
“You’ve discovered fresh traces of them, then?”
“I have ever so many scratches of their horses’ feet, where they slipped in stepping down to the stream. Quite plain they are; I could distinguish them some way off, and with half an eye, as I was hauling in the soldado. Good news, I call it; since we won’t have to take the back-track anyhow. What’s before us remains to be seen. Possibly, on the other side we may light on something else, to tell the direction they’ve taken. So, we’d better lose no time, but cross over.”
Hurriedly finishing their primitive repast, they spring back upon their recados, and ride down to the ford.