What he did not know was, that when he had escaped from the cannibals Aguilar had made a fresh vow to keep with all strictness every vow of his priesthood, and to bear his lot with patience and meekness until it should be the will of God to free him from the savages.  He had begun to think that this freedom would never be his in his lifetime, but a vow was a vow.  He no more suspected that Taxmar was taking note of his behavior, than a man standing in front of the lion’s cage at the menagerie can translate the thoughts behind the great cat’s intent eyes.

Taxmar began to try experiments.  He invented temptations to put in the way of his slave, but Aguilar generally did not seem to see them.  One day the Indians were shooting at a mark.  One came up to Aguilar and seized him by the arm.

“How would you like to be shot at?” he said.  “These bowmen hit whatever they aim at—­if they aim at a nose they hit a nose.  They can shoot so near you that they miss only by the breadth of a grain of corn—­or do not miss at all.”

Aguilar never flinched, although from what he knew of the savages he thought nothing more likely than his being set up for a San Sebastian.  He answered quietly,

“I am your slave, and you can do with me what you please.  I think you are too wise to destroy one who is both useful and obedient.”

The suggestion had been made by the order of Taxmar, and the answer was duly reported to him.

It took a long time to satisfy the chief that this man who seemed so extraordinary was really what he seemed.  He came at last to trust him wholly, even making him the steward of his household and leaving him to protect his women in his absence.  Finding the chief thus disposed, Aguilar ventured a suggestion.  Guerrera had won great favor with his master by his valor in war.  Aguilar was shrewd enough to know that though it was very pleasant to have his master’s confidence, if anything happened to Taxmar he might be all the worse off.  The only sure way to win the respect of these barbarians was by efficiency as a soldier.  Taxmar upon request gave his steward the military outfit of the Mayas—­bow and arrows, wicker-work shield, and war-club, with a dagger of obsidian, a volcanic stone very hard and capable of being made very keen of edge, but brittle.  Jeronimo when a boy had been an expert archer, and his old skill soon returned.  He also remembered warlike devices and stratagems he had seen and heard of.  Old soldiers chatting with his father in the purple twilight had often fought their battles over again, and nearly every form of military tactics then known to civilized armies had been used in the war in Granada.  Naturally the young friar had heard more or less discussion of military campaigns in Darien.  His suggestions were so much to the point that Taxmar had an increased respect for the gods of that unknown land of his.  If they could do so much for this slave, without even demanding any offerings, they must be very different from the gods of the Mayas.