[Forward, March by Kirk Munroe]@TWC D-Link bookForward, March CHAPTER XV 1/8
DIONYSIO CAPTURES A SPANIARD While Ridge was greatly disappointed at losing the guidance and companionship of the young Cuban, in whom his confidence was now wholly restored, he could not, under the circumstances, urge him to go farther, nor did he dare longer delay his own journey.
With Senorita, all his belongings, including his undelivered despatches, and the money stolen when he was captured by del Concha, had been restored to him. So he now added to his outfit a grass-woven hammock that he purchased in the refugee camp, and was then ready to set forth. The new guide awaiting him was a coal-black negro named Dionysio, who was of such huge stature that the other Cubans seemed pygmies beside him.
He was armed only with a great machete, ground to exceeding sharpness, and he disdained to ride a horse, declaring that he could, on foot, cover a greater distance in less time than any horse on the island, which Ridge was able to credit after a short experience with his ebony guide.
Besides, being a big man and a very strong one, Dionysio was a silent man, as taciturn as an Indian, and never spoke except upon necessity. When Ridge was introduced to him he was sitting in the shade of a corojo-palm, smoking a cigarette and lovingly fingering the razor-like edge of his machete. "This is the Senor Americano whom you are to guide to Jiguani, and afterwards, if he requires it, to Santiago," said del Concha, Dionysio looked keenly at Ridge, but uttered no word. "He is ready to start." The negro stood up, to signify that he was also ready. "You will not let the Spaniards kill him," Dionysio tapped his machete significantly. "Well, my friend, adios," said del Concha, "and may you come safely to your journey's end!" Accepting this farewell as a signal to move, the black giant set forth at a swinging pace, and, in order not to lose sight of him, Ridge was obliged instantly to follow.
In another minute, therefore, they had crossed the clearing, plunged again into the forest, and the refugee camp was as lost to their view as though it had not existed. The silent guide bore on his shoulders a burden of yams rolled in a hammock, but it in no way interfered with the freedom of his movements. For miles he maintained, up hill and down, the same speed with which he had set out, and which so taxed Senorita's endurance that Ridge was finally forced to call a halt.
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