Our course was almost due west, and the sun being now a little past the zenith, its ardent rays—­which shone right in our faces—­together with the reverberations from the ground, made the heat almost insupportable.  The stirrup-irons burned our feet; speech became an effort; we sat in our saddles, perspiring and silent; our horses, drooping their heads, settled into a listless and languid walk.  The glare was so trying that I closed my eyes and let Pizarro go as he would.  Open them when I might, the outlook was always the same, the same yellow earth and blue sky, the same lifeless, interminable plain, the same solitary sombrero palms dotting the distant horizon.

This went on for an hour or two, and I think I must have fallen into a doze, for when, roused by a shout from Gahra, I once more opened my eyes the sun was lower and the heat less intense.

“What is it,” asked Carmen, who, like myself, had been half asleep.  “I see nothing.”

“A cloud of dust that moves—­there!” (pointing).

“So it is,” shading his eyes and looking again.  “Coming this way, too.  Behind that cloud is a body of horsemen.  Be they friends or enemies—­Mejia and his people or loyalist guerillas?”

“That is more than I can say, senor.  Mejia, I hope.”

“I also.  But hope is not certainty, and until we can make sure we had better hedge away toward the north, so as to be nearer the hills in case we have to run for it.”

“You think we had better make for the hills in that case?” I asked.

“Decidedly.  Mejia is sure to return thither, and Morale’s men are much less likely to follow us far in that direction than south or east.”

So, still riding leisurely, we diverged a little to the right, keeping the cloud-veiled horsemen to our left.  By this measure we should (if they proved to be enemies) prevent them from getting between us and the hills, and thereby cutting off our best line of retreat.

Meanwhile the cloud grew bigger.  Before long we could distinguish those whom it had hidden, without, however, being able to decide whether they were friends or foes.

Carmen thought they numbered at least two hundred, and there might be more behind.  But who they were he could, as yet, form no idea.

The nearer we approached them the greater became our excitement and surprise.  A few minutes and we should either be riding for our lives or surrounded by friends.  We looked to the priming of our pistols, tightened our belts and our horses’ girths, wiped the sweat and dust from our faces, and, while hoping for the best, prepared for the worst.

“They see us!” exclaimed Carmen.  “I cannot quite make them out, though.  I fear....  But let us ride quietly on.  The secret will soon be revealed.”

A dozen horsemen had detached themselves from the main body with the intention, as might appear, of intercepting our retreat in every direction.  Four went south, four north, and four moved slowly round to our rear.