“We will take a new direction,” he replied. “We will not go northwards, as hitherto; we will go southwards. This will bring us towards the point from which the enemy are approaching. We may obtain tidings; perhaps we may get a sight of them.”
“You must be guide, then,” I answered. “Of course, you know the ground.”
“Trust me for that,” said he. “I will not take you by the direct route across the open plain. We will strike off to the right, and skirt the foot of the hills.”
“Why go over rough ground, in preference to level?” I asked.
“Ah,” said he, “you are, I perceive, a novice in guerilla warfare. Regular tactics are your line. If they caught sight of us on the open plain, don’t you see they would be sure to overtake and capture us? If we have the hills on our flank, cannot we at any time escape up the rocks and gullies? They are not likely to follow us there. If they do, at any rate, I promise you some beautiful shooting.”
“Let alone a little bloodletting among the thorn-bushes,” said I; “trousers in tatters, and our beasts rolling heels over head down all sorts of places.”
“We must go on foot,” he replied.
“Very good,” said I; “you know best. Only recollect my left leg is in far better walking order for half-a-league than for half-a-dozen. Suppose I knock up?”
“Chito! then I will carry you on my back.”
“Be it so,” said I, inwardly determining to drop dead tired for the fun of the thing, and take a spell out of the Padre as long as I found it pleasant. “Then, to-morrow after breakfast——”