Once more the cibolero passed round the circumference of the glade, and surveyed the grouping in the centre. Again he appeared satisfied; and, re-entering the thicket, he brought out a fresh armful of dry wood and flung it on the fire.
He now raised his eyes, and appeared to scrutinise the trees that grew around the glade. His gaze rested upon a large live-oak standing at the inner entrance of the avenue, and whose long horizontal limbs stretched over the open ground. The top branches of this tree were covered thickly with its evergreen frondage, and laced with vines and tillandsia formed a shady canopy. Besides being the tallest tree, it was the most ample and umbrageous—in fact, the patriarch of the grove.
“’Twill do,” muttered Carlos, as he viewed it. “Thirty paces—about that—just the range. They’ll not enter by the avenue. No—no danger of that; and if they did—but no—they’ll come along the bank by the willows—yes, sure to do so:—now for Cibolo.”
He glanced for a moment at the dog, that was still lying where he had been placed.
“Poor fellow! he has had it in earnest. He’ll carry the marks of their cowardly knives for the rest of his days. Well—he may live long enough to know that he has been avenged—yes! that may he. But what shall I do with him?”
After considering a minute, he continued:—
“Carrambo! I lose time. There’s a half-hour gone, and if they’ve followed at all they’ll be near by this time. Follow they can with their long-eared brute, and I hope he’ll guide them true. What can I do with Cibolo? If I tie him at the root of the tree, he’ll lie quiet enough, poor brute! But then, suppose they should come this way! I don’t imagine they will. I shouldn’t if I were in their place; but suppose they should, the dog would be seen, and might lead them to suspect something wrong. They might take a fancy to glance up the tree, and then—No, no, it won’t do—something else must be done with Cibolo.”
Here he approached the root of the live-oak, and looked inquiringly up among its branches.
After a moment he seemed to be satisfied with his scrutiny. He had formed a new resolution.
“It will do,” he muttered. “The dog can lie upon those vines. I’ll plait them a little for him, and cover them with moss.”