She reached at last a little knoll, crowned by a group of pine
trees crowded closely together, and dashing up the steep bank with
undiminished speed came to a sudden stop in the very middle of the
grove. Here she stood still for a moment, peering anxiously about her,
and then, putting two fingers in her mouth, gave three shrill whistles,
such as no traveller in those desolate regions can hear without a
shudder. In an instant what seemed to be a heap of pine twigs stirred,
and a man emerging from beneath them rose slowly to his feet at a little
distance from the child.
"Is it you, Chiquita?" he asked. "What news do you bring? You are late.
I had given over expecting you to-night, and gone to sleep."
The speaker was a dark, fierce-looking fellow of about five and
twenty, with a spare, wiry frame, brilliant black eyes, and very white
teeth--which were long and pointed like the fangs of a young wolf.
He looked as if he might be a brigand, poacher, smuggler, thief, or
assassin--all of which he had been indeed by turns. He was dressed like
a Spanish peasant, and in the red woollen girdle wound several times
around his waist was stuck a formidable knife, called in Spain a navaja.
The desperadoes who make use of these terrible weapons usually display
as many red stripes, cut in the steel, upon their long pointed blades
as they have committed murders, and are esteemed by their companions in
proportion to the number indicated by this horrible record.
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