As the sun rose to its meridian, the vertical rays, reflected from the stony bare-fanged walls, gave off an intense heat, and the party halted in a hollow that lay brown and lean between two mountains. The men squatted down to partake of a light noontide repast, and it was then that Rafael Perez approached Morales.
"Caballero of my soul," he said fearfully, "I can go no farther with you!"
"Disparate!" exclaimed Morales, jumping to his feet. "What nonsense is this! Hola, Ferou and you, Carson; the treacherous knave desires to abandon us!"
The Frenchman and American crowded up.
"But he cannot!" objected Ferou. "We will not let him!"
"What reason have you for refusing to go farther?" asked Carson, turning upon the guide.
"Senores," replied Aguilino with feigned humility, but no little trepidation; "it is not the will of God!"
"It is not the will of Jacinto Quesada, you mean!" bit out the American with quick penetration.
Aguilino shrugged his shoulders expressively.
"Senores," he whined, "there are no churches in these mountains, and men of the good Dios come but seldom here. In these mountains, the will of Jacinto Quesada moves stronger than does the will of God!"