human
Yes; I understand it all now--everything. He's been dead some time--at least two or three weeks. That explains their leaving the other town in such haste, and coming on here. Dead, or deadly sick, before he left it, the old chief would have himself to think of, and so sent no word to us at the _estancia_. No blame to him for not doing so. And now that the young one's in power, with a fool's head and a wolf's heart, what may we expect from him? Ah, what? In a matter like this, neither grace nor mercy. I know he loves the _muchachita_, with such love as a savage may--passionately, madly. All the worse for her, poor thing! And all the poorer chance for us to get her away from him. _Por Dios_! it does look dark.
gpt
His making her a captive and bringing her on here, I can quite understand; that's all natural enough, since his father being dead, there's no longer any one to hinder him doing as he likes. It's only odd his chancing to meet master out that day, so far from home. One would suppose he'd been watching the _estancia_, and saw them as they went away from it. But then, there were no strange tracks about the place, nor anywhere near it. And I could discover none by the old _tolderia_ that seemed at all fresh, excepting those of the shod horse. But whoever rode him didn't seem to have come anywhere near the house; certainly not on this side. For all that, he might have approached it from the other, and then ridden round, to meet the Indians afterwards at the crossing of the stream. Well, I shall give the whole ground a better examination once we get back.
human
Get back! he exclaims, repeating his words after a pause, and in changed tone.
gpt
Shall we ever get back? That's the question now, and a very doubtful one it is. But, he adds, turning to descend from the scaffold,