“Yes,” she answered; “his second son, Carlos, is as brave and devoted as his brother. Should you meet, Barry, make yourself known to him, and I am sure that he will be glad to give you his friendship. In appearance he is very like his elder brother, though perhaps handsomer, and you cannot fail to recognise him.”
I began to suspect, from the way in which Norah
spoke of the young Don Carlos, that she was deeply interested in him; and soon afterwards I had reason to know that I was not mistaken.
We stopped to rest and take our noonday meal near a small clump of trees on the borders of a wide stream, which we were afterwards to pass. Across it was thrown a curious bamboo-bridge, the lower portion of which rested on the calm water beneath it. The bamboos of which it was composed were securely lashed together by sepos, making it very elastic. The sides were so steep as to form rather a sharp angle with each other; while so great was the ascent and descent, that, to enable people and animals to pass along it without slipping, pieces of bamboo in which to fix the feet were placed at short intervals across the footway. Slight as was the bridge in appearance, owing to its yielding nature there was no danger of its breaking; and we saw two or three persons crossing it with mules, so that we had no fear about going over it ourselves.
We were about to recommence our journey, when Candela and Chumbo, who had been attending to our animals at a little distance, came hurrying up, and said that they had seen a large body of men appearing above a ridge on our side of the river; and urged that we should lose no time in moving. I ran to a slight hillock near where we had been seated, and from thence I could distinguish the men they spoke of: they were evidently infantry, and in considerable force, as I caught the gleam of their bayonets forming a long line as they surmounted the ridge.
I was assisting Norah to mount, while the doctor was putting the children into the panniers, when he cried out,—“We are in a trap! See! there are troops on the opposite side coming this way; and if we cross we may fall into their hands.”
“But they may be friends,” I said.
“Yes! they are friends,” cried the padre; “they are cavalry, the llañeros of the plain—I can make out their lances against the sky. They are dashing on at full speed; none but they could ride over that rough ground. Paez, or perchance Bermudez, is at their head.”
“You are right, friend padre; they are pushing on to gain the bridge before yonder infantry can reach it,” cried my father, his martial enthusiasm kindling. “The enemy’s object is to gain the bank of the river first, and dispute their passage before they can cross and form on this side. See! the Spaniards are advancing at the double, scrambling over all impediments; it is a question which will reach the river first. There will be some warm work anon.”