'Right you are,' Gerald nodded. 'This chap will show you the way. You'll be as safe as a house with your yellow head of hair. Do what you like. He's badly wounded, I fancy. Get back here by daylight, and if you don't find me, make your way into San Fernando.'
I looked at my watch by the lantern light. It was ten minutes to one, and there would be another two hours and a half before daylight.
In five minutes I was on my horse, the man who'd brought my cigarette case was leading him, and we had plunged into the forest to the left of the road, Gerald going away to the right, after Zorilla. How the little chap found his way I don't know, but he did somehow or other, cutting through the brushwood with his machete, and jabbering to me in Spanish all the time.
The bush and the fallen trees were so treacherous that, after Jim had stumbled badly once or twice, and was trembling with fright, I got off and helped to lead him too, and wished I'd left him behind.
Now I had a job of my own to do, I didn't mind the beastly darkness, and gradually gave up jumping with funk whenever some natives glided past, speaking softly to my little chap, and then hurrying away to the right. I'd hear, 'Yuesencia!' 'Hermano!' 'Don Geraldio!' and they'd disappear.
The field-gun had stopped firing, but rifle firing was continuous, and seemed to be travelling away towards El Castellan.
Once we met quite a large party, with an officer, all hurrying after Zorilla, and he would not let us pass till he'd struck a match and seen my face. That was enough for him, and he passed on, full of apologies.
This made me think, more than ever, what a 'boss' old Gerald was, and what a 'boss' I was, too, simply because I had the same coloured hair.
Somehow or other, after barking my shins and elbows a dozen times, we got to a small clearing, where there was a kind of a hut and a jolly welcome light burning in it.
Some one shouted, 'Quien Vive!' my guide answered, 'Paisano! La Buena Presidente!' and a score of natives thronged round us, bowing, taking my horse, and saying, 'Buenas,'[#] Yuesencia!' I went into the hut, and found about fifteen men lying on the ground or propped up against the wall—cavalry men all of them—and I spotted my little friend, although he'd grown a scraggy beard.