At some distance from the _litera_, and nearer the edge of the lake, three of the attendants were seated together upon the grass. They were conversing, in low tones, for the purpose of passing the time. The fourth, who was the guide already mentioned, had gone forward through the woods--partly to search for the crossing, but also to reconnoitre the path, and find out whether the road to San Carlos was clear of the guerilleros. Through a break in the forest that surrounded the glade, the enchanted mountain was visible--its sombre silhouette outlined against the blue background of the sky. In all countries, every object that appears to vary from the ordinary laws of nature, possesses, for the vulgar imagination, a powerful interest; and the servants of Don Mariano were no exception to the rule. "I have heard it said," whispered one of them, "that the waters of this lake now so muddy, were once as clear as crystal; and that it was only after they were consecrated to the devil, that they became as they are now." "Bah!" rejoined another, "I don't believe what they say about the devil living up there upon the _Cerro encantado_. He would choose a more pleasant place for his residence, I should fancy." "Well," said the first speaker, who was named Zefirino, and who was better acquainted with the locality than either of his companions, "whether the devil dwells there or not, some terrible things have taken place on that mountain; and it is said, still happen there. I have heard that the fog which you see upon its summit, and which always rests there at night, is extended over it by the god of the Indians--who is only the devil himself. He does that to hide what goes on up there. There's one strange story the Indians themselves tell." "What is it? Let us hear it, Zefirino." "Well, you've heard how in old times the Indian priests had an altar up yonder--upon which they used to sacrifice scores of human beings--so that the blood ran down the fissures of the rock like water after a shower of rain. Their plan was to cut open the breast of the victim, and tear out his heart while still alive. But why need I frighten you with a story that, by my faith, is fearful enough?" "No--no--never mind! Go on, Zefirino." "Stay!" cried the other domestic. "Did you not hear a noise--just down there by the edge of the lake?" "Bah! it's only an alligator snapping his jaws together. Go on, Zefirino!"