“Would you have had my brother patiently submit to the cruelties inflicted upon him?” asked Manoel.
“We have no right to take the life of a fellow-creature, except in self-defence or open warfare,” I replied. “But the secret is safe in my keeping. I did not even see the face of the man who committed the deed, and I know not who he was. I love the Spaniards as little as you do, and I promise you I will not reveal the dreadful crime I have just witnessed.”
“I am grateful,” answered Manoel; “for, to tell you the truth, had I thought you capable of informing against my brother, I might have been tempted, though much against my inclination, to serve you as he served the Spaniard; but had I done so, I never should have been happy afterwards.”
I scarcely thought that Manoel was in earnest, and yet I believe that he was so. His fidelity to his brother sillero would have been paramount to every other consideration. Manoel was advancing as he spoke, but when I looked round the sillero had disappeared, though I afterwards caught a glimpse of him bounding up the rocks on the left, having hurled his chair over the cliff.
It was some time before I could recover from the horrible scene I had witnessed; and I debated in my own mind whether or not I should have given the promise I had made to Manoel. One thing was certain, however—I was bound to keep it.
When the path became less steep, I insisted on walking. Manoel, too, though he had boasted of his strength, was obliged to stop and rest; and at length the peons and Mr Laffan rejoined us. The latter was still anxious about the rest of the party, and declared that it would be impossible for the horses to mount the steep path by which we had come. He thought that even the mules could scarcely do it, supposing that they had not been overtaken by the Spaniards.
I had not, of course, told him how our chief cause of anxiety was removed, and that we need no longer fear discovery on our arrival at Bogota.
“When the Spaniards are driven away, and a Liberal government is established, we must have a good road over these mountains,” exclaimed Mr Laffan. “It is a disgrace to a civilised country, that no better means of communication exists between the capital and her most fertile districts.”
At last, as evening approached, Manoel selected a spot for encamping, and we made the usual preparations. We enjoyed a magnificent scene. As far as the eye could range were mountains clothed with immense forests, into which man had never penetrated. About a couple of hundred feet below us ran a sparkling stream, towards which, while the peon was employed in collecting wood for the fire, Manoel made his way, to fill a leathern bottle with water. I accompanied him with my gun, followed by Lion, hoping to shoot some birds for supper.
We had gone a little way along the bank, when a wild turkey got up. I fired, and brought it to the ground. Manoel ran forward to secure it, but just before he reached it he stopped and beckoned to me. As he did so I saw a huge jaguar, which had been drinking at the stream, not two hundred yards from us. I had, as a sportsman should, reloaded my gun before moving. The only weapon Manoel possessed, besides the manchette at his girdle, was his sharp-pointed staff,—not calculated for an encounter with so powerful a beast. The jaguar, having seen the turkey fall, crept on to seize it. I advanced as rapidly as I dared, keeping my gun ready for instant use. Lion would have rushed forward to get the bird had I not ordered him to remain at my heels, for, powerful as he was, a blow from the jaguar’s paw would have been too much for him.