ily, nobody is to know that you are to be pulling up the river to-night."
"I am not so sure of that," said the pilot; "there are spies and traitors every where. If any of the marauders we put to flight this evening has the slightest inkling of our plans, be sure that his comrades will be apprised of it time enough to meet us at a part of the river I know. We have already rowed two hours," he added, shaking his head, "and the place is not far off. You now know what we have to fear. Consider, therefore, whether we shall push on, or land, and wait till daylight."
"I can not lose a minute," returned the Jarocho, coldly. "If we pull well, we shall reach the village where Campos lives in an hour."
"It is quite the same to me," Ventura replied. "Let us proceed."
A dead silence succeeded these words. Knowing now the dangers we had to run, I went and seated myself in the bow, to try to make out, if it were possible, the ambuscades that threatened us; but the darkness was so great that I could discover nothing. The leafy vault under which we moved threw a thick shadow over the bed of the river; at times, however, a gust of wind shook into the water, like a shower of golden rain, large cucuyos, which fell from the trees above us. Not a single star was to be seen through the interstices of the foliage. A quarter of an hour had now elapsed without in the least justifying the suspicions of the pilot. The Jarocho lay on his oars to take breath, and the boat, moved by the current, turned broadside on to the stream.
"Keep her head to the stream," cried the pilot, sharply. "Even supposing that we have no ambus-
