The Indian was, in truth, a very intelligent man, and Hinchcliff found him a most interesting companion. He soon discovered a stream where they could drink their fill; he asked questions about the weapons that had frightened him so much, and even so far overcame his fear of firearms as to offer to carry the gun a little way; an offer that was declined with thanks. When the wonderful instrument brought down a fine young ostrich for dinner, the unsophisticated fellow actually put his lips to the barrel. Quick to turn his hand to any open-air work, he plucked and cleaned the bird and collected sticks and dry pampas grass for the fire; whereupon another surprise awaited him; for Hinchcliff was growing very short of matches, and was in the habit of economising them by using a burning-glass for lighting his pipe and his fire. And this was the only occasion on which an Indian ever asked him for anything, even indirectly; on receiving a hint that his companion would give the world to possess such a wonderworking implement, he handed it to him readily enough; for, if necessary, he could easily use one of the lenses of his field-glass for getting a light. Shortly before sunset, as the two trudged along towards the river, which had long been in sight, the Indian, after a sudden glance behind him, set off at a sharp run, making for a tiny valley that opened between the hills on his left. "_Now_ what?" shouted the astonished Englishman. As he turned to look back, the sound of approaching horses caught his ear, and he saw an Indian and three Gauchos riding at full speed, followed closely by a man who rode like a European. They wheeled for the valley at once, and reached it long before the fleeing Indian, who turned back shrieking towards Hinchcliff. "Shoot, Señor; for the love of all the Saints; shoot them dead; they are bad men," he gasped in an agonised voice. This was rather a large call on a man who came from a country where to shoot people is a capital crime; but the piteous appeal for help in the fugitive's face was irresistible. If an Englishman is averse to taking pot-shots at strangers, he is generally quite as loth to see the weaker side go to the wall. While he was asking himself what was the best thing to do, the foremost Gaucho made a sudden motion with his arm, the noose of a lasso dropped over the Indian's head, and he was jerked over on to his back. At sight of the bulging eyes of the half-strangled victim, Hinchcliff pulled out his knife and was about to slash the thong through, when the second Gaucho, springing to the ground, flung himself in the way and presented a pistol. "We are acting under orders," he said. "Be careful what you do.--All right; loose him and tie his hands, Juan." "You are sure that's your man?" asked the European stranger, hurrying up. He had spoken in such execrable Spanish, that Hinchcliff said unceremoniously: "Englishman, aren't you?"