about three
o'clock in the afternoon
Pointing to the open country on our right , where the blue gleam of a river was visible , I said : `` My friend , I assure you , I fear nothing , but I can not understand why you keep near these hills when the valley over there would have been pleasanter for ourselves , and easier for our horses . '' `` I do nothing without a reason , '' he said , with a strange smile . `` The water you see over there is the Rio de las Canas -LSB- River of Grey Hairs -RSB- , and those who go down into its valley grow old before their time . '' Occasionally talking , but oftener silent , we jogged on till about three o'clock in the afternoon , when suddenly , as we were skirting a patch of scraggy woodland , a troop of six armed men emerged from it , and , wheeling about , came directly towards us . A glance was enough to tell us that they were soldiers or mounted policemen , scouring the country in search of recruits , or , in other words , of deserters , skulking criminals , and vagabonds of all descriptions . I had nothing to fear from them , but an exclamation of rage escaped my companion 's lips , and , turning to him , I perceived that his face was of the whiteness of ashes . I laughed , for revenge is sweet , and I still smarted a little at his contemptuous treatment of me earlier in the day .