"No one knows better than our good friend, but what of it?"

"Which route will he be likely to take,--by land or the river?"

The question did not seem to have occurred to Major Starland, who
turned to Martella for an answer.

"I think he will come by the gunboat and land where we did."

"Then there is a good chance of meeting him and his party?"

"Nothing is more likely; we must not forget to prepare for them, for
they may be close at hand."

"What do you suggest?"

"I will walk far enough in advance to give warning. When I see or hear
aught of them, I will whistle like this."

He illustrated and added:

"When that falls upon your ears, you will make haste to turn off into
the wood."

"But there are many places where we cannot turn off, without taking a
plunge down a precipice."

"Then run back till you find one."

Martella now strode down the path, which was so deeply shadowed that
he quickly slipped from view.

"With your permission, Major, I will follow next, keeping a short way
in advance of the Senorita and the horse. You may take the front or
rear, as you think best."

"I will keep at the bridle. I cannot see that danger threatens from
the Castle, and surely we are well guarded in front."

There was no call for delay and the procession moved in the order
named, the guide being so well to the fore that only at intervals
was a glimpse caught of the shadowy form, where the moonlight flooded
the winding trail, which gradually descended until it reached the
Rio Rubio to the northward. The three composing the main party did
not speak, for all their senses were centred in those of sight and
hearing. It had been in the mind of Miss Starland to propose that her
pony should be dismissed. The task of walking was nothing to her, and
the animal was really an incumbrance, but she saw as yet no objection
against utilizing him: the necessity of parting with him might come at
any time.

Past the murmuring waterfall, along the rocky face of the towering
precipice, with fleeting glimpses of the myriad monkeys eternally
flitting through the tropical forest, with the discords of nocturnal
animals, and the squawking and cries of disturbed birds of a hundred
different species, amid the soft moonlight and deep shadows, our
friends threaded their way, listening and peering into the gloom,
their hopes high, and yet with misgiving in every heart.

Half the distance was traversed, when the pony stepped around a
proje