think it likely; but all the same I joined him in an attack
on the provisions, which we devoured to the very last morsel. Then we
had another drink of water, and rose to resume our journey. As if this
were a signal, the rocks round about suddenly became alive with armed
men, who yelled some orders which we could not understand. Then
clambering over the boulders, they surrounded us, and in a short time
had bound our arms tightly with strips of hide. They were
fierce-looking fellows--Indians, never seen westward of the Andes--and
apparently unfamiliar with the Spanish language. I tried to question
them, but they did not understand, while neither of us could make out a
word of their patois. It was clear, however, that they meant to take
us with them; and as we marched off, Alzura said, with a laugh,--

"What a lucky thing, Juan, that we ate our supper in good time!"

CHAPTER XXV.

BACK TO DUTY.

Since the beginning of the war I had seen a great deal of Indian
endurance, but nothing to equal that of our new captors. They marched
along in a curious fashion at a kind of jog-trot pace, taking short
steps and carrying their feet close to the ground. Mile after mile was
covered without apparent effort, and when at last a halt was called,
not a man looked the least bit tired. As for Alzura and me, we were
exhausted, and lay down just as we were. The Indians lit a fire,
roasted some maize, and loosening our bonds, gave us a share of the
food, a drink of water, and a little coca. Whether they were friends
or foes we could not tell, but despite their ferocious looks they did
us no harm.

While on the march I had resolved to try them with the charm of the
silver key; but, to my dismay, I found it was no longer round my neck.
A part of the chain was still there, but it had snapped off, and the
key was gone, sunk probably in the dreadful morass. However, turning
to one of the fellows, I said, first in Spanish, then in the patois
used by Sorillo's men, "We are officers in the Patriot army, and
friends of Raymon Sorillo and the Silver Key; who are you?"

He shook his head solemnly, and looked at me with a blank stare.

"Try him with English, Juan," laughed Alzura. "I wonder where he lives
when he's at home? Perhaps he knows Portuguese. I'll have a shot at
him."

If Alzura knew Portuguese--which I rather doubted--the Indian was
ignorant of that language, and was quite unmoved by my comrade's flood
of oratory