There will be no fear
of being lost then, and if one of us gets capsized, he can help him up
again."

Upon the Spaniard coming up to them, he gave a sharp shout to the
mules, at the same time striking the donkey on which he rode with a
stick. Instantly the mules, recognizing the signal, started into a
sharp trot, the first effect of which was to tumble Hawtry from his
seat into the road, Jack with difficulty saving himself by clutching
wildly at the mane.

"Confound it!" Hawtry exclaimed furiously, as he regained his feet, to
the Spaniard. "Why didn't you say what you were going to be up to?
Starting the ship ahead at full speed without notice! I believe I've
broken some of my ribs. Don't you laugh too soon, Jack. It will be
your turn next."

The Spaniard helped Hawtry to regain his seat, and they were soon
clattering along the dusty road at a brisk rate, the boys quickly
getting accustomed to the pace, which, indeed, was smooth and easy.
For hours they rode on, sometimes trotting, sometimes walking, taking
no heed whither they were going, and enjoying the novelty of the ride,
the high cactus hedges, the strange vegetation, little villages here
and there, sometimes embowered in orange trees, and paying no heed to
time.

Presently Jack exclaimed,--

"I say, Hawtry, it must be getting late. We have been winding and
turning about, and I have not an idea how far we are now from Gib. We
must be through the gates by gun-fire, you know."

They stopped, and by pantomime explained to the Spaniard that they
wanted to get back again as soon as possible.

He nodded, made a circle with his arm, and, as they understood,
explained that they were making a circuit, and would arrive ere long
at their starting-place.

For another hour and a half they rode along, chatting gayly.

"I say, Jack," Hawtry exclaimed suddenly, "why, there's the sun pretty
nearly down, and here we are among the hills, in a lonelier looking
place than we have come to yet. I don't believe we're anywhere near
Gib. I say, old fellow, it strikes me we're getting into a beastly
mess. What on earth's to be done?"

They checked their mules, and looked at each other.

"What can the Spaniard's game be, Hawtry? We've had a good five
shillings' worth."

"Let us take our own bearings," Hawtry said. "The sun now is nearly on
our left. Well, of course, that is somewhere about west-sou-west, so
we must be going northward. I don't think that can be right. I'm sur