For more than five hours we kept on without stopping. I then proposed a halt. By lying down on the grass we at once found a soft bed, and Lucien and the rest of us soon went to sleep. Before daylight l'Encuerado awoke us, when, after taking our bearings, he undertook to be our guide. As the first sunbeam appeared, we halted to form our camp and erect our tent. We cleared a large space, and a hole in the ground served as a fire-place. Our crayfish remained perfectly fresh, and while l'Encuerado was broiling them, I and Sumichrast watched the direction of the flames, as it was highly important for our safety that the savannah should not be set on fire. The meal dispatched, and the fire extinguished, we squatted down under the shadow of the grass, and resigned ourselves to sleep. I woke about midday, nearly roasted by the sun, which had now replaced the shade. Calling my companions, so that they might change their position, a new arrangement of our covering gave us more shelter, and soon once more all were asleep; but in the short intervening time Lucien began to repeat to the parrots the names of Hortense and Emile. At midnight, l'Encuerado shouldered his load and took the lead. The second night passed like the first, and we travelled at least eight leagues. Our third night was interrupted by five or six halts, but we plodded on till dawn. At the first gleam of light, I examined the horizon; there was nothing but bluish-looking mountains to the right, and in every other direction only the gloomy and deserted plain. On this day we had to be satisfied with maize-cakes; but the hope of at length reaching the woods cheered every one. "One night more," said l'Encuerado and Sumichrast, "and then we shall have rest and abundance." The fourth day's march was much more wearisome, especially to poor Lucien, who, still uncomplaining, yet commenced to limp dreadfully. The day broke, and I again examined the horizon, but could see nothing except the sky and grass. "I am afraid we are not going the right way," I said to l'Encuerado. "God grant we have not been walking at random for these three days." The Indian stood up on his basket, and carefully examined the outline of the mountains. "We are in the right path," said he, positively; "the savannah is very wide, that is all." [Illustration: "Lucien began to repeat to the parrots the names of Hortense and Emile."] L'Encuerado's assurances only half convinced me. Lucien's feet were so covered with blisters that he could scarcely put them to the ground. Unexpectedly I discovered that he was weeping silently; so I took him up in my arms, when he soon fell asleep.