For some moments nothing was said; Cyril, with his heart beating heavily, gazing up into the eyes that looked down into his, while he wondered more than ever what it all meant.

"Don't you know me, my boy?" was said at last, and a half-hysterical cry escaped the lad's lips as he clung to the hand which grasped his.

"Yes, father! But--but what does it all mean?"

"That you must lie still and rest for a bit. You have had a nasty blow on the head, but you will soon be better."

"But--where are we?--where is Perry, and where is the colonel? I can't think, but I don't understand why you are here."

"You can ask yourself that last question by-and-by, my lad."

Cyril shrank a little, for those words were more potent than any reproach, and Captain Norton went on:

"You were asking about your friends. They are all here, but have been hurt more or less. We only came up just in time."

"You came up--just in time? Oh, I remember now. We were fighting and trying to escape, and somebody fired. Was it you, father?"

"Yes, my lad, my friends and I. If we had not arrived as we did, I'm afraid that there would have been a tragedy here in this valley, for the Indians were roused, and I believe that you would none of you have lived to see another day."

"And the Indians: where are they now?"

"Far away, my lad. They will not face firearms."

"But you came, father--after me?"

"Of course, as soon as I grasped the fact that you had followed Colonel Campion. At first I would not think it possible that my son could treat us at home as you had; but when, from a man who had come over the mountains with a llama train, I learned that he had seen you, I did what I felt it to be my duty to do for your mother's sake."

Cyril's hands went up to his face for a few moments, and then they were gently pressed aside.

"This is no time for blaming you, Cyril," said the captain gently; "you are injured. Get well, my boy. But you asked me how I came here. As soon as I knew that you were with Colonel Campion, I got the help of two or three friends, and our servants, and we obtained mules and came on in search of you. I did so, for, in addition to my duty to you, I repented letting a brother-officer come upon what I felt more and more was an exceedingly risky expedition. It has proved so, has it not?"

"I'm afraid so, father," sighed Cyril. "Would the Indians have killed us?"

"It seems so. You were utterly outnumbered, and from what I can gather, I suppose they believe you were hunting for and had found some of the old treasures buried here in the mountains."

"Oh no," cried Cyril; "they were quite wrong."

And he explained the object of the colonel's mission.

"They would not believe that, my boy, though they would have been just as ready to stop anything of the kind. I found, on tracing you to their camp, that you had come down in this direction, and the man who acted as our guide gathered that there was some trouble on the way, and thus made me hurry on after you. I should have come up with your party sooner, only three times over we were tricked into following another track, our guide proving perfectly untrustworthy directly after he had been in communication with the people at the back camp. However, I came up with you in time, just as a fierce fight was going on, and your party were being worsted. A few shots drove the Indians off, and for the present we are safe."

"And the mules and their loads?"

"There are our mules," said the captain quietly.

"No, no; I mean ours," cried Cyril.

"I have seen no others. There are none here."

"But they've taken the kinia seed that the colonel came to collect. We must go and attack them at once."

"We must get from here on to the regular track through the mountains as soon as we can, my boy," said the captain sternly. "We do not know whether we may not ourselves be attacked by a strong body of the Indians. I cannot do as I like, for I must study my friends; but if I could, I would not run any risk in the face of such odds: so if Colonel Campion can by any possibility sit a mule, we shall begin our retreat at once. What? Can you stand?"

"Yes, father. Only a little giddy; and I want to see the colonel and John Manning."

For Cyril had raised himself to his feet, and his father led him at once to where his companions lay close by, where their rescuers had formed their temporary camp, and were now making a hearty meal.

Perry was lying back with his head bandaged, John Manning was suffering from a severe knife wound, and the colonel lay looking very hollow of cheek, for he also in the fight had received a bad knife thrust, and to Cyril it seemed that it would be impossible for the party to begin their retreat for some days to come.

But as soon as he awoke, the colonel declared himself able to sit a mule, and John Manning insisted upon the hurt he had received being merely a scratch; so, as the case was urgent, a start was made that same afternoon, and a few miles made before they were overtaken by night, and encamped, setting a careful watch in case of attack.

But none came, the lesson given by Captain Norton quelling all present desire for a closer acquaintance with the firearms; and soon after daybreak they were once more in motion, the leader retracing the way taken by his friends in their attempted escape till they were close up to the cinchona camp, which they found deserted.

A long halt was necessary here on account of the injured party, but two days later they were on their way again, after a long consultation between Colonel Campion and their friends.

"Did you hear what was said?" asked Perry, as he and Cyril rode side by side wherever the track would allow.

"Yes, everything; your father wanted to stay here for a bit and make an expedition or two in search of the Indians, so as to try and recover the baggage and mules."

"Of course," said Perry. "It's horrible to go back like this, regularly beaten. But they wouldn't?"

"No: my father said he was willing, but the rest would not. They said they had come to help to save all our lives, and bring me back, but they were not going to risk their own any more to satisfy--"

"Well, satisfy what?" said Perry, for his companion checked himself.

"Like to know?"

"Of course."

"Satisfy your father's mad-brained ideas."

"Mad-brained indeed!" cried Perry indignantly. "And didn't father say they must go?"

"No," replied Cyril, laughing, "because he had no authority, and he was perfectly helpless. You see he couldn't go himself."

"I only wish he was strong enough," cried Perry. "He would soon show some of them."

"Hasn't he shown them enough? My father's right."

"What, in giving up?" cried Perry indignantly.

"No, in behaving like a good soldier, and drawing off his forces when he is beaten. Father told him that it was folly to go on now in his helpless state. That, injured as he was, he would kill himself and you and your man too, for you had neither mules, provisions, nor weapons, and that the only thing to do was to go back."

"And what did my father say?" cried Perry hotly.

"Nothing. He only held out his hand without speaking, and they stood for half a minute."

"But it's horrid to be beaten and go back like this, robbed of all our belongings, and just too when we had succeeded so well. The cowards!

All that party against us. I feel as if I couldn't go back to San Geronimo."