the thickets and the passes. We stopped a moment to
deliberate on the track we should take. A bugle rang out behind us, and
the next instant the report of a cannon thundered in a thousand echoes
along the glen.

"It is from the hacienda," said Raoul; "they have missed us already."

"Is that a `sign', Rowl," asked Lincoln.

"It is," replied the other; "it's to warn their scouts. They're all
over these hills. We must look sharp."

"I don't like this hyur timber; it's too scant. Cudn't yer put us in
the crik bottom, Rowl?"

"There's a heavy chaparral," said the Frenchman, musing; "it's ten miles
off. If we could reach that we're safe--a wolf can hardly crawl through
it. We must make it before day."

"Lead on, then, Rowl!"

We stole along with cautious steps. The rustling of a leaf or the
cracking of a dead stick might betray us; for we could hear signals upon
all sides, and our pursuers passing us in small parties, within earshot.

We bore to the right, in order to reach the creek bottom of which
Lincoln had spoken. We soon came into this, and followed the stream
down, but not on the bank. Lincoln would not hear of our taking the
bank path, arguing that our pursuers would be "sartin ter foller the
cl'ar trail."

The hunter was right, for shortly after a party came down the stream.
We could hear the clinking of their accoutrements, and even the
conversation of some of the men, as follows:

"But, in the first place, how did they get loose within? and who cut the
wall from the outside, unless someone helped them? _Carajo_! it's not
possible."

"That's true, Jose," said another voice. "Someone must, and I believe
it was that giant that got away from us at the rancho. The shot that
killed the snake came from the chaparral, and yet we searched and found
nobody. Mark my words, it was he; and I believe he has hung upon our
track all the way."

"_Vaya_!" exclaimed another; "I shouldn't much like to be under the
range of his rifle; they say he can kill a mile off, and hit wherever he
pleases. He shot the snake right through the eyes."

"By the Virgin!" said one of the guerilleros, laughing, "he must have
been a snake of good taste, to be caught toying around that dainty
daughter of the old Spaniard! It reminds me of what the Book tells
about Mother Eve and the old serpent. Now, if the Yankee's bullet--."

We could hear no more, as the voices died away in the distance and under
the sound of the wat