“Ah, my young friend, I am glad to have the opportunity of saying farewell,” he exclaimed, putting out his hand; “you will not forget your promise of last night. And let me advise you to prepare yourself for the service you may render our beloved country. Take every opportunity of perfecting yourself in horsemanship, and practise the use of the lance and carbine I hope ere long to return this way, and to enrol you among my troops, when you will, I doubt not, with the practice we will be able to give you, become thoroughly expert in the use of your weapons. Should Heaven preserve your life, you must look forward to becoming a leader; and consider well how you will have to act in all the circumstances in which you may be placed,—whether meeting the foes of our country on the plains or amid the mountains; either pursuing, or retreating before superior numbers; endeavouring to effect a surprise, or guarding against one. He proves the most successful leader who has reflected well—during the quiet hours of the bivouac under the starry vault of heaven, or in his silent chamber—how he will conduct himself in the varied chances of warfare. Brute courage is useful in the heady fight, but the possessor of that only can never be a fitting leader.”
I was thanking the general for his advice, when Donna Paola appeared, led forth by Colonel Acosta, the young officer I have before mentioned, who had been seated next to her at supper. He pressed her hand as he assisted her to mount, and by the look she gave him I saw that their affection was mutual. I trusted, for both their sakes, that she would be protected in the dangerous undertaking in which she was engaged. The general springing into his saddle, the rest of the party followed his example. Waving his adieux, he led the way along the side of the mountain; while Padre Pacheco, stretching out his hands, blessed him and his followers, and commended them to the care of Heaven.
My uncle and Tim had also come out prepared for a start. The hospitable padre urged us to remain longer, but we were naturally anxious to reach home. On my uncle making inquiries as to the best road to take, “I will send Candela with you,” said the padre; “he knows it well, and may be of use to you should any roving bands of Indians (and I have noticed that there are several out), seeing a small party, attack you. They mostly know and respect me—for though they are but poor Christians, they look upon me as possessing supernatural powers; and when Candela explains that you are friends of mine, they will allow you to pass without molestation.”
Without hesitation my uncle gladly accepted the kind padre’s offer, and Candela was forthwith ordered to get ready. He did not require many minutes, his preparations consisting in bolting a mess of porridge, to enable him the better to undergo the fatigue of the journey. He was to proceed on foot with the natives who conducted our baggage-mules.
“You must come soon and see me again,” said the padre, as he wished me good-bye. “You are sure to find me, for I never move far from home, seeing I have my little flock to look after, and matters of importance to attend to. But before you go, let me caution you, Señor Denis, not to speak to any one about those persons you saw here. It might lead to unpleasant consequences should the tyrannical Spaniards hear that my quiet abode is frequented by patriots; and we never know what evil birds may carry information.”
“You may trust Barry and me, and my brother’s servant; though we are not likely to meet any but friends to the cause where we are going,” replied my uncle.
The padre looked satisfied; and again wishing him good-bye, we mounted and rode forward, led by Candela, who, with a long stick in his hand, kept well ahead of us.
We soon lost sight of the padre’s abode. The road we took was wild and rugged, across the spurs of the mountains; sometimes we had to cross rocky heights, again to descend into narrow valleys, with streams—through which we waded not without difficulty—running down them. Occasionally we had to pass amid thickly-growing trees, which concealed from view the mountain-tops, which might otherwise have assisted to guide us; and we agreed that it was fortunate Candela had come with us to show us the way.
We had to encamp another night in the forest, as it would have been dangerous to proceed over that kind of country in the dark; but Candela assured us that we might reach my father’s house early the following day. We pushed forward till the gloom of evening came on, when we looked about for a convenient spot for encamping. We selected one on some rocky ground just outside a wood, with a deep ravine in front of us; while on our left was a precipice of a hundred feet or so in height, at the bottom of which flowed a rapid stream.
Securing the legs of our mules with their halters in the usual fashion, so that they could not stray, we turned them loose, while we lighted our fire, and placed our saddles and horse-cloths ready for sleeping. A basket of provisions, which the padre had secured to one of the baggage-mules, afforded us an ample supper; so that we had only to boil our chocolate, and to heat some water with which to mix the aguadiente the padre had sent, prescribing a cupful as a preventive against the ill effects of the damp night air or any noxious exhalations rising from the valleys—though there was not much chance of our suffering from these in the lofty position we occupied.