ack anyhow. What's before us remains to be seen. Possibly, on
the other side we may light on something else, to tell the direction
they've taken. So, we'd better lose no time, but cross over."

Hurriedly finishing their primitive repast, they spring back upon their
_recados_, and ride down to the ford.

Once in the water, they find it not quite so shallow, as they had
supposed from seeing the _garzones_ wading about with but the slightest
portion of their shanks below the surface. For at the bottom is a
substratum of mud; a soft slimy ooze, firm enough to support the light
birds, but through which the heavier quadrupeds, further weighted with
themselves and their baggage, sink to their bellies.

Gaspar is surprised at finding the ford in this condition. It was not
so when he passed over it before, and he can only account for the change
by the dust from the _tormenta_ having been blown in large quantities
into the stream, then carried down by the current, and settling over the
shallow crossing-place.

Whatever the cause, they find it awkward work to wade through the sticky
slime. Still, they might have accomplished the crossing without
accident, and doubtless would have done so, but for an impediment of
another kind--one not only altogether unexpected, but far more to be
dreaded than any danger of their going head and ears over into the ooze.
For just as they have reached mid-stream, and are splashing and
floundering on, Gaspar, who is riding ahead, and shouting back
directions to the others, all at once finds his attention fully occupied
in looking to himself, or rather to his horse. For the animal has come
to a stop, suddenly and without any restraint of the rein, and stands
uttering strange snorts, while quivering throughout every fibre of its
frame!

Glancing over his shoulder, the gaucho sees that the other horses have
also halted, and are behaving in a precisely similar manner, their
riders giving utterance to excited exclamations. Ludwig looks a picture
of astonishment; while, strange to say, on Cypriano's countenance the
expression is more one of alarm! And the same on the face of the gaucho
himself; for he, as the young Paraguayan comprehends the situation, and
well knows what has brought their horses so abruptly to a halt.

"What is it, Gaspar?" questions Ludwig, now also alarmed at seeing the
others so.

"Eels!" ejaculates the gaucho.

"Eels! Surely you're jesting?" queries the incredulous y