The Indian walked up and down the sand with folded arms and drooping head, like a man who is reflecting deeply. The hunter followed him with his glance, waiting calmly, till he thought proper to offer an explanation. It was easy to see that Natah Otann was ripening in his brain one of those bold projects such as Indians frequently imagine, but knew not how to enter upon it. The hunter resolved to put a stop to this state of things.
"Come," he said, "my brother has made me leave my camp; he invited me to follow him; I consented to do so: now that, according to his desire, we are free from human ears, will he not speak, so that I may return to my companions?"
The Indian stopped before him.
"My brother will remain," he said; "the hour is come for an explanation between us. My brother loves Glass-eye?"
The hunter regarded his querist craftily.
"What good of that question?" he asked: "it must be a matter of indifference to the chief whether I love or not the man he pleases to call Glass-eye."
"A chief never loses his time in vain discourses," the Indian said, peremptorily; "the words his lips utter are always simple, and go straight to the point; let my brother then answer as clearly as I interrogate him."
"I see no great inconvenience in doing so. Yes, I love Glass-eye; I love him not only because he saved my life, but because he is one of the most honourable men I ever met."
"Good! for what purpose does Glass-eye traverse the prairie? My brother doubtlessly knows."
"My faith, no! I confess to you, chief, my ignorance on that head is complete. Still, I fancy that, wearied with the life of cities, he has come here with no other object than to calm his soul by the sublime aspect of nature, and the grand melodies of the desert."
The Indian shook his head; the hunter's metaphysical ideas and poetic phrases were so much Hebrew to him, and he did not understand them.
"Natah Otann," he said, "is a chief, he has not a forked tongue; the words he utters are as clear as the blood in his veins. Why does not the hunter speak his language to him?"
"I answer your questions, chief, and that is all. Do you fancy that I would go out of my way to interrogate my friend as to his intentions? They do not concern me; I have no right to seek in a man's heart for the motive of his actions."
"Good! my brother speaks well; his head is grey, and his experience long."
"That is possible, chief; at any rate you and I are not on such friendly terms that we should exchange our thoughts without some restriction, I fancy; you have kept me here for an hour without saying anything, so it is better for us to separate."
"Not yet."
"Why not? Do you imagine I am like you, and that instead of sleeping o' nights as an honest Christian should do, I amuse myself with rushing about the prairie like a jaguar in search of prey?"
The Indian began laughing.
"Wah!" he said, "my brother is very clever; nothing escapes him."
"By Jingo! there is no great cleverness in guessing what you are doing here."
"Good! then let my brother listen."
"I will do so, but on the condition that you lay aside once for all those Indian circumlocutions in which you so adroitly conceal your real thoughts."
"My brother will open his ears, the words of his friend will reach his heart."
"Come, make an end of it."
"As my brother loves Glass-eye, he will tell him from Natah Otann that a great danger threatens him."
"Ah!" the Canadian said, casting a suspicious glance at the other, "and what may the danger be?"
"I cannot explain further."
"Very good," Bright-eye remarked, with a grin, "the information is valuable, though not very explicit; and pray what must we do to escape the great danger that menaces us?"
"My brother will wake his friend, they will mount their horses, and retire at full speed, not stopping till they have crossed the river."
"Hum! and when we have done that, we shall have nought more to fear?"
"Nothing."
"Only think of that," the hunter said, ironically; "and when ought we to start?"
"At once."
"Better still." Bright-eye walked a few paces thoughtfully; then he returned, and stood before the chief, whose eyes sparkled in the gloom like those of a tiger cat, and who followed his every movement.
"Then," he said, "you cannot reveal to me the reason that forces us to depart?"
"No!"
"It is equally impossible, I suppose, for you to tell me of the nature of the danger that menaces us?" he went on.
"Yes."
"Is that your last word?"
The Indian bowed his head in affirmation.
"Very good, as it is so," Bright-eye said all at once, striking the ground with the butt of his rifle, "I will tell it you."
"You?"
"Yes, listen to me carefully; it will not be long, and will interest you I hope."
The chief smiled ironically.
"My ears are open," he said.
"All the better, for I shall fill them with news which, perhaps, will not please you."
"I listen," the impassive Indian repeated.
"As you said to me a moment back and the confidence on your part was useless, for I have known you so long on the prairie the Redskins have the eyes of an eagle, and they are birds of prey, whom nothing escapes."
"Go on."
"Here I am; your scouts have discovered, as was not difficult, the trail of an emigrant family; that trail you have been following a long time so as not to miss your blow; supposing that the moment had arrived to deal it, you have assembled Comanches, Sioux, and Blackfeet, all demons of the same breed, in order this very night to attack people whom you have been watching for so many days, and whose riches you covet because you suppose them so great eh?"
Natah Otann's face revealed no emotion. He remained calm, although internally restless and furious at having his thoughts so well guessed.
"There is truth in what the hunter says," he replied, coldly.
"It is all true," Bright-eye exclaimed.
"Perhaps; but I do not see in it for what reason I should have come here to warn my Paleface brother."
"Ah, you do not see that; very well. I will explain it to you. You came to seek me, because you are perfectly well aware that Glass-eye, as you call him, is not the man to allow the crime you meditate to be committed with impunity in his presence."
The Blackfoot shrugged his shoulders. "Can a warrior, however brave he may be, hold his ground against four hundred?" he said.
"Certainly not," Bright-eye went on; "but he can control them by his presence, and employ his ascendency over them to compel them to give up their prospects; and that is what Glass-eye will undoubtedly do, for reasons of which I am ignorant, for all of you have for him an incomprehensible respect and veneration, and as you fear lest you may see him come among you at the first shot fired, terrible as the destroying angel, you seek to remove him by a pretext, plausible with anyone else, but which will produce on him no other effect than making him engage in the affair. Come, is that really all? have I completely unmasked you? Reply."
"My brother knows all; I repeat, his wisdom is great."
"Now, I presume, you have nothing to add? Very well, good night."
"A moment."
"What more?"
"You must."
"Very well; but make haste."
"My brother has spoken in his own cause, but not in that of Glass-eye; let him wake his friend, and impart our conversation to him; mayhap he is mistaken."
"I do not believe it, chief," the hunter answered, with a shake of his head.
"That is possible," the Indian persisted; "but let my brother do as I have asked him."
"You lay great stress on it, chief!"
"Great."
"I do not wish to vex you about such a trifle. Well! you will soon allow that I was right."