“I don’t quite see that.  We shall meet them all the sooner.”

Carmen made some reply which I failed to catch, and as the way was rough and Pizarro required all my attention, I did not repeat the question.

We passed rapidly up the brow, and when we reached more even ground, put our horses to the gallop and went on, up hill and down dale, until Carmen, uttering an exclamation, pulled his horse into a walk.

“I think we can get down here,” he said.

We had reached a place where, although the mountain to our right was still precipitous, the ravine seemed narrower and the sides less steep.

“I think we can,” repeated Carmen.  “At any rate, we must try.”

And with that he dismounted, and leading his horse to the brink of the ravine, incontinently disappeared.

“Come on!  It will do!” he cried, dragging his horse after him.

I followed with Pizarro, who missing his footing landed on his head.  As for myself, I rolled from top to bottom, the descent being much steeper than I had expected.

CHAPTER XII.

BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

The ravine was filled with shrubs and trees, through which we partly forced, partly threaded our way, until we reached a spot where we were invisible from the road.

“Now off with your cobija and throw it over your horse’s head,” said Carmen.  “If they don’t hear they won’t neigh, and a single neigh might be our ruin.”

“You mean to stay here until the troops have gone past?”

“Exactly, I knew there was a good hiding-place hereabout, and that if we reached it before the troops came up we should be safe.  If there be any more of them they will pass us in a few minutes.  Now, if you will hitch Pizarro to that tree—­oh, you have done so already.  Good!  Well, let us return to the road and watch.  We can hide in the grass, or behind the bushes.”

We returned accordingly, and choosing a place where we could see without being seen, we lay down and listened, exchanging now and then a whispered remark.

“Hist!” said Carmen, presently, putting his ear to the ground.  He had been so long on the war-path and lived so much in the open air, that his senses were almost as acute as those of a wild animal.

“They are coming!”

Soon the hum of voices, the neighing of steeds, and the clang of steel fell on my ear, and peering between the branches I could see a group of shadows moving toward us.  Then the shadows, taking form and substance, became six horsemen.  They passed within a few feet of our hiding-place.  We heard their talk, saw their faces in the moonlight, and Carmen whispered that he could distinguish the facings of their uniforms.

“It is as I feared,” he muttered, “the entire regiment of Irun, shifting their quarters to Caracas.  We are prisoners here for an hour or two.  Well, it is perhaps better to have them behind than before us.”