The negro stood up, to signify that he was also ready.

"You will not let the Spaniards kill him," Dionysio tapped his machete
significantly.

"Well, my friend, adios," said del Concha, "and may you come safely to
your journey's end!"

Accepting this farewell as a signal to move, the black giant set forth
at a swinging pace, and, in order not to lose sight of him, Ridge was
obliged instantly to follow. In another minute, therefore, they had
crossed the clearing, plunged again into the forest, and the refugee
camp was as lost to their view as though it had not existed.

The silent guide bore on his shoulders a burden of yams rolled in a
hammock, but it in no way interfered with the freedom of his movements.
For miles he maintained, up hill and down, the same speed with which he
had set out, and which so taxed Señorita's endurance that Ridge was
finally forced to call a halt. The heat of the sun was by this time
intense, while the forest steamed from a succession of brief but
drenching showers that had swept over it since they started.

As Dionysio comprehended what was wanted he proceeded, without a word,
to construct a small bower of branches and palm leaves, beneath which
he slung Ridge's hammock. The young trooper's eyes were so leaden with
sleep that he had no sooner slipped into this than he was lost in a
dreamless slumber.

When he next awoke, greatly refreshed by his long nap, the great heat
of the day was past, and the shadows of coming evening produced a