fane foot on the treasure that he had believed wholly his. Bois-Rose
and Fabian were hidden behind the trees; and thinking that Pepe was
alone, Cuchillo had fired at him, without taking time for a proper aim,
and thus Pepe had escaped the ball that whistled past him.

It would be impossible to paint his rage and stupefaction, when hidden
behind the pine trees, he saw two men join Pepe, especially when in one
of them he recognised the terrible hunter whom he had seen engaged with
the tigers at Poza, and in the other, Fabian, who had already twice
escaped his vengeance. A mortal fear chilled his heart; he almost fell
to the ground. Must he again fly from that Golden Valley, from which
fate seemed always to drive him?

Lucky for Cuchillo, the fog had hidden him from his enemies, and by the
time they had reached the top he had descended on the opposite side--
after having just caught a glance of Don Estevan and his companion in
the distance. Here was a fresh subject of fear and surprise for
Cuchillo who, gliding like a serpent along the rocks, hid himself, as we
have seen, amid the leaves of the water lilies, to await the denouement
of this strange adventure. Hidden from all eyes, he held himself in
readiness to profit by the approaching conflict between Don Estevan and
Fabian, and a shudder of diabolical joy mingled with that caused by the
gold; he was like the rapacious bird which awaits the issue of the
battle to seize upon its prey. If the three hunters were victorious he
had little he thought to fear from Fabian, who was still in his eyes
Tiburcio Arellanos. The lower class of Mexicans think little of a blow
with the dagger, and he hoped that the one he had given might be
pardoned, if he were to throw the blame upon Don Estevan. If this last
remained master of the field, he trusted to find some plausible excuse
for his desertion. He decided therefore upon letting them begin the
struggle, and then, at the decisive moment, should come to the
assistance of the strongest.

While Cuchillo was endeavouring to console himself by these reasonings,
Bois-Rose was able to distinguish the complexion of the new-comers.

"They are from the Mexican camp," said he.

"I foresaw," said Fabian, "that we should have the whole troop on our
hands, and be caught like wild horses in a stockade."

"Hush!" said Bois-Rose, "and trust to me to protect you. Nothing yet
shows that there are any others behind, and in any case we could