fate which they so keenly feel. But
now that the first hurried step has been taken, and they can go no
further till another sun lights up the trail, calmer reflection comes,
admonishing them to greater caution in their movements. For they who
have so ruthlessly killed one man would as readily take other lives--
their own. What they have undertaken is no mere question of skill in
taking up a trail, but an enterprise full of peril; and they have need
to be cautious how they proceed upon it.

They are so acting now. Their camp-fire is but a small one, just
sufficient to boil a kettle of water for making the _mate_, and the spot
where they have placed it is in a hollow, so that it may not be seen
from afar. Besides, a clump of palms screens it on the western side,
the direction in which the trail leads, and therefore the likeliest for
them to apprehend danger.

Soon as coming to a stop, and before kindling the fire Gaspar has gone
all around, and made a thorough survey of the situation. Then,
satisfied it is a safe one, he undertakes the picketing of their horses,
directing the others to set light to the faggots; which they have done,
and seated themselves beside.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

WHO RODE THE SHOD HORSE?

While waiting for the gaucho to rejoin them by the fire the two youths
are not silent, but converse upon the event which saddens and still
mystifies them. For up till this moment they have not seen anything,
nor can they think of aught to account for the calamity which has
befallen them--the double crime that has been committed. No more can
they conceive who have been the perpetrators; though Cypriano all along
has had his suspicions. And now for the first time he communicates them
to his cousin, saying--

"It's been the work of Tovas Indians."

"Impossible, Cypriano!" exclaims Ludwig in surprise. "Why should they
murder my poor father? What motive could they have had for it?"

"Motive enough; at least one of them had."

"One! who mean you?"

"Aguara."

"Aguara! But why he of all the others? And for what?"

"For what? Simply to get possession of your sister."

Ludwig starts, showing greater astonishment than ever.

"Cypriano!" he exclaims; "what do you mean?"

"Just what I've said, cousin. You're perhaps not aware of what I've
myself known for long; that the chief's son has been fixing his eyes on
Francesca."

"The scoundrel!" cries Ludwig, with increasing indignation, for the