The sun stood close to the zenith, and still he dozed.

The luminary of day did not only illuminate, but its heat was scorching; the shadows under cover of which Cayamo had retreated were moving gradually, and the unkempt head of the hero became exposed to the most direct rays.

The heat began to disturb him; he groaned, stretched himself, moved uneasily, and attempted to turn over.

In this he bent his shield, and the hard leather struck him in the ribs.

Cayamo woke up! He opened his eyes and yawned, closed them again, then opened the lids a second time, when his look became suddenly a stare of surprise.