is not willing, I can remain."
Rosario was not one of the weak, puling daughters of our great European cities, who wither before they bloom. Her resolution was formed with the rapidity of lightning; she bore up against the fear which had taken possession of her mind, and replied in a firm voice —
"I will do what my brother desires."
"Good!" the Indian said. "Let my sister conceal herself, then."
He cautiously removed the cactus and creepers which surrounded the lower part of the tree, and exposed a cavity, into which the young girl crept, all trembling, like a poor sparrow in the eyrie of an eagle. As soon as Rosario was comfortably placed in the hollow of the tree, the Indian restored the plants to their primitive state, and completely concealed her hiding place with this transparent curtain. Then he regained the horses, mounted his own, led the other, and galloped off.
He galloped thus for many minutes without relaxing his speed, and when he thought himself sufficiently far from the place where Doña Rosario was concealed, he dismounted, listened for an instant, untied the sheep skins from the horses' feet and set off again with the speed of an arrow. He soon heard the galloping of horses behind him; at first distant, but rapidly drawing near and at last becoming distinct. Curumilla had a ray of hope, for his manoeuvre had succeeded. He still pressed on his horse, and leaving his heavy wooden stirrups, with their sharp angles, to beat against the sides of the still galloping animal, he stuck his long lance into the ground, threw his weight upon it, and raising himself by the strength of his wrists, sprang lightly to the ground, whilst the two abandoned horses held on their furious course. Curumilla glided in among the bushes, and made the best of his way back towards Rosario, persuaded that the horsemen would be misled by the false track.
Antinahuel had sent out his mosotones in all directions, in order to discover the traces of the fugitives, but himself had remained in the village. Antinahuel was too experienced a warrior to allow himself to be misled. His scouts returned, one after another, without having discovered anything. The last two that returned brought with them two stray horses bathed in steam. These were the two horses abandoned by Curumilla.
"Will she escape us then?" the Linda asked.
"My sister," the Toqui replied, coolly, with a sinister smile, "when Antinahuel pursues an enemy, he does not escape."
"And yet – " she said.
"Patience," he replied; "they had a chance; their horses gave them a great advantage over me; but, thanks to my precautions, I have forced them to abandon their horses, which alone could have saved them. Within an hour they will be in our hands."
"To horse, then; and let us delay no longer," Doña Maria exclaimed impatiently.
"To horse, then, be it!" replied the chief.
This time no false route was pursued; they followed in a straight line the track by which the prisoners had escaped.
In the meantime Curumilla had rejoined Rosario.
"Well?" she asked, in a voice half choked by fear.
"In a few moments we shall be taken," the chief replied mournfully.
"What! have we no hope left?"
"None! We are surrounded on all sides."
"Oh, my Maker! What have I done?" the poor girl sobbed.
Curumilla reclined upon the ground; he had taken his weapons from his belt, and placed them beside him; and with the stoical fatalism of the Indian when he knows that he cannot escape a destiny that threatens him, he waited impassively, his arms crossed upon his breast, the arrival of the enemy. They heard the tramp of the horses drawing nearer and nearer. In a quarter of an hour all would be over.
"Let my sister prepare," Curumilla said coolly: "Antinahuel approaches."
"Poor man," said Rosario; "why did you endeavour to save me?"
"The young blue-eyed maiden is the friend of my pale brothers; I would lay down my life for her."
"You must not die, chief," she said, in her soft clear tones; "you shall not!"
"Why not? I do not dread torture; my sister shall see how a chief can die."
"Listen to me. You have heard the threats of that woman; my life is in no danger."
He replied by a gesture of assent.
"But," she continued, "if you remain with me, if you are taken, they will kill you."
"Yes," he remarked, coolly.
"Then who will inform my friends of my fate? If you die, chief, what can they do to deliver me?"
"That is true; they can do nothing."
"You must live, then, chief, for my sake."
"Does my sister wish it?"
"I insist upon it."
"Good!" said the Indian. "I will go, then; but let not my sister be cast down."
At this moment the noise of the approaching cavalcade resounded with a loudness that announced they were close at hand. The chief gathered up his arms, replaced them in his belt, and, after bestowing a last sign of encouragement upon Rosario, he glided among the high grass and disappeared. Antinahuel and the Linda were within ten paces of her.
"Here I am," she said, in a firm voice; "do with me what you please."
Her persecutors, struck with such an exhibition of courage, pulled up their horses in astonishment. The courageous girl had saved Curumilla.
CHAPTER IV.
SERPENT AND VIPER
Doña Rosario stood motionless, her arms crossed, her head haughtily raised, and her look disdainful. The Linda leaped from her horse, and seizing her by the arm, shook her violently.
"Oh, oh!" she said, in a bitterly mocking tone, "my pretty dear! This is the way you oblige people to come after you: is it?"
Doña Rosario only replied to this flood of words by a look of cold contempt.
"Ah!" the exasperated courtesan exclaimed, clutching her arm, "I will bring down that proud spirit!"
"Madam," Rosario replied, mildly, "you hurt me very much."
"Serpent!" the Linda shrieked, "why can I not crush you beneath my heel?"
Rosario staggered a few paces; her foot struck against a root, and she fell. In her fall her forehead came in contact with a sharp stone; she uttered a feeble cry of pain, and fainted. The Indian chief, at the sight of the large gash in the young girl's forehead, uttered a roar like that of a wild beast. He leant over her raised her tenderly, and endeavoured to stop the bleeding.
"Fie!" said the Linda, with a jeering laugh; "are you going to play the old woman – you, the first chief of your nation?"
Antinahuel remained silent; for an instant he felt an inclination to stab the fury: he darted a glance at her so loaded with anger and hatred, that she was terrified, and instinctively made a movement as if to put herself on the defensive. As yet the attentions of Antinahuel had no effect; Rosario remained still senseless. In a few minutes the Linda was reassured by observing
