I
understood him at once.
"It would be useless," I declared. "You would find nothing."
"But she was with us when we fell," he persisted, not bothering
to pretend that he did not understand me. "She came--it must be
near where we landed."
"That isn't it," I explained. "Have you forgotten that we have
been here for over a month? You would find nothing." As he
grasped my thought his face went white and he was silent. So on
the following morning we departed.
Our host furnished us with food, clothing, mules, and an arriero,
not to mention a sorrowful farewell and a hearty blessing. From
the door of the hacienda he waved his sombrero as we disappeared
around a bend in the mountain-pass; we had, perhaps, been a
welcome interruption in the monotony of his lonely existence.
We were led upward for many miles until we found ourselves again
in the region of perpetual snow. There we set our faces to the
south. From the arriero we tried to learn how far we then were
from the cave of the devil, but to our surprise were informed
that he had never heard of the thing.
We could see that the question made him more than a little
suspicious of us; often, when he thought himself unobserved, I
caught him eyeing us askance with something nearly approaching
terror.
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