CHAPTER XVII. 



A FORCED MARCH. — WILD-DUCKS. VEGETABLE SOAP. — AN 



UNWELCOME GUEST. 



TT rained all night, and I awoke about seven o'clock in 

 the morning shivering with cold. It was Ascension- 

 day, and FEncuerado, before making up the fire, chanted a 

 canticle, and, after the manner of Roman Catholics, piously 

 crossed himself. We were soon comforted with some cof- 

 fee, and then, each of us resuming his burden, started off 

 to reach the foot of the mountain. Before plunging into 

 the forest, I could not help looking back with regret at the 

 cave we had scarcely explored, and in which so many archae- 

 ological curiosities remained buried. The sun only show- 

 ed itself at intervals through grayish-looking clouds driven 



