I then called Antonio, and gave him the same instructions and warning which Uncle Richard had given me.
“Do not fear, señor,” he answered—giving, however, an ominous yawn; “I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Trusting more to Lion than Antonio, I lay down, and in a few seconds was again fast asleep. How long I had remained in that state I could not tell, when I heard Lion bark close to my ear, and felt him pulling at my clothes. On sitting up, I saw that the fire had burned much lower than it was when I gave up my watch, and that Antonio was asleep. I quickly roused him up.
“It was but for a moment, señor; my eyelids are so very heavy.”
“Look at the fire!” I exclaimed. “It must have been a very long moment since you put anything on. Now, help me to make it up.”
We soon had the fire blazing brightly again, and Antonio promised to keep awake until daylight. Had it not been for Lion, I should not have trusted him. He probably was not aware that the dog had aroused me.
Again I heard Lion bark loudly. The fire, as before, had burned down, and Antonio was again asleep; but on looking out of the door I found that day had broken. I was convinced that Lion had been observing the fire rather than Antonio—considering it his duty to watch it—and that he had called me simply because he saw that it ought to be made up.
I now awakened the whole party, and by the time we had eaten a hearty breakfast the light had increased sufficiently to enable us to continue our journey.
We encountered the same sad sights as on the previous day. There were fewer animals, but many more dead bodies,—some evidently, from their dress, being those of women and children.
“They are those of unfortunate people who were attempting to escape from the Godos,” observed Padillo. “The mountains hereabouts are full of the skeletons of those who have thus perished. But Heaven will punish our oppressors.”