s or Cuchillo?"

"Pray God it be the latter," said Don Estevan. "I prefer having him
near rather than far from my sight."

"I think I recognise his grey horse."

In a minute, indeed, they recognised Cuchillo himself.

"To arms! to arms!" cried the guide, "here are the Indians," and he
rushed precipitately through the opening made for him by the sentinels.

"Cuchillo! the Indians! both names of bad augury," said Don Estevan, as
he turned towards his companion.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

THE ATTACK.

At the cry of Cuchillo, which resounded throughout the camp, the
Spaniard and Diaz exchanged looks of intelligence.

"It is strange that the Indians should have found our trail again?" said
Don Estevan, interrogatively.

"Very strange," replied Diaz, and without saying another word, both
descended from the eminence, on which they stood.

The camp was already in motion, and confusion reigned everywhere; there
was a general movement among these intrepid men, who were accustomed to
such surprises, and who had already more than once measured their
strength with their implacable enemies. Each armed hastily, but soon
the tumult subsided, and all stationed themselves at the posts assigned
to them in case of attack. The first who interrogated Cuchillo were the
shepherd and Baraja.

"Unless you drew the Indians on to our track, how could they have
discovered us?" said the former, with a suspicious look.

"Certainly it was I," replied Cuchillo, impudently. "I should have
liked to have seen you pursued by a hundred, of these demons, and
whether you would not, like me, have galloped to the camp to seek an
asylum!"

"In such a case," replied Benito, severely, "a man to save his
companions, does not fly, but gives up his life sooner than betray them.
I should have done so."

"Every one in his own way," replied Cuchillo, "but I have an account to
render only to the chief, and not to his servants."

"Yes," murmured the other, "a coward and a traitor can but commit
baseness and perfidies."

"Are the Indians numerous?" asked Baraja.

"I had not time to count them; all that I know is that they must be
near."

And crossing the camp he proceeded to where Don Estevan--after having
attended to the most important precautions--stood at the door of his
tent waiting for him. As Cuchillo went on without replying to any of
the questions with which he was assailed, a man advanced with a lighted
torch in his hand to set fire