“What on earth is that?” inquired the officer.
“Only a jaguar searching for prey,” coolly responded Costal.
“Oh!” said the dragoon, “is that all? I was fancying it might be something more fearful.”
“Your shortest route, then, lies that way,” said Costal, resuming his directions, and pointing with his gun towards the spot where the howl of the tiger had been heard.
“Thank you!” said the horseman, gathering up his reins, and heading his horse to the path. “If that is the shortest, I shall take it.”
“Stay!” said Costal, approaching a little nearer, and speaking with more cordiality than he had yet shown.
“Oigate, señor cavallero! A brave man like you does not need to be warned of every danger; but one ought to be informed of the dangers one must meet.”
Don Rafael checked his horse.
“Speak, friend,” said he; “I shall not listen to you ungratefully.”
“To reach from here the hacienda of Las Palmas,” continued Costal, “without going astray, or making détours, be careful always to keep the moon to your left, so that your shadow may be thrown on the right—a little slanting—just as you are at this moment. Moreover, when you have started, never draw bridle till you have reached the house of Don Mariano de Silva. If you meet a ditch, or brake, or ravine, cross them in a direct line, and don’t attempt to go round them.”