"Dam!" continued the hunter; "guero bigger fool than thought 'im. Mighty God, see! believe 'im sleep yonder! him, sure!" As the mulatto uttered these words, he pointed to a dark form by the fire. It appeared to be the body of a man, prostrate and asleep. "_Santisima_, it is!" replied the zambo. "Snug by the fire too. He _is_ a fool! but, sure enough, he could have no thought of our following him in a night so dark as this." "Hwish, dam! dog not there, guero ours! No more talk, boy Pepe! follow me!" The mulatto headed his horse, not direct for the grove, but for a point on the bank of the river some distance below. They rode silently, but now with more rapidity. Their victim was just where they would have wished him, and they were in a hurry to take advantage of his situation. The nature of the ground was well-known to both, for they had shot deer from the cover of that very copse. On arriving at the river bank, both dismounted; and having tied both their horses and dogs to the willows, they commenced moving forward in the direction of the grove. They observed less caution than they might otherwise have done. They felt certain their victim was asleep by the fire. Fool, they thought him! but then how was he to have suspected their presence? The most cunning might have deemed himself secure under such circumstances. It was natural enough that he had gone to sleep, wearied as no doubt he was. Natural, too, that he had kindled a fire. The night had become unpleasantly cold, and it would have been impossible to sleep without a fire. All that seemed natural enough. They reached the edge of the grove, and without hesitation crawled into the underwood. The night was still, the breeze scarce turned a leaf, and the slightest rustling among the bushes could have been heard in any part of the glade. A low murmur of water from a distant rapid, a light ripple in the nearer stream, the occasional howl of the prairie wolf, and the dismal wailing of nightbirds, were the only sounds that fell upon the ear. But although the man-stalkers were making their way through thick underwood, not a sound betokened their advance. There was no rustling of leaves, no snapping of twigs, no crackling of dead sticks under the pressure of hand or knee, no signs of human presence within that dark shrubbery. These men well knew how to thread the thicket. Silent, as the snake glides through the grass, was their advance. In the glade reigned perfect silence. In its very centre blazed a large fire that lit up the whole surface with its brilliant flames. It was easy to distinguish the form of a fine steed--the steed of the cibolero--standing near the fire; and, nearer still, the prostrate form of his master, who seemed asleep! Yes, there were the manga, the sombrero, the botas and spurs. There was the lazo reaching from the neck of the horse, and, no doubt, wound around the arm of the sleeper! All these points could be determined at a glance.