"I confess, my friend, that all you say greatly astonishes me," Don Miguel replied. "I never could understand this species of sublime instinct which helps you to find your way in the desert, although you have already given me the most astonishing proofs; still, I confess that what is taking place at this moment surpasses everything I have hitherto seen you do."
"Good gracious!" Valentine answered; "you pay me compliments I am far from deserving; all this is an affair of reasoning, and especially of habit. Thus, it is as plain to you as it is to me, that Red Cedar came here?"
"Very good; as he came, he must have gone away again," the hunter said with a laugh; "for the reason that he is no longer here, or we should have him."
"Because you are blind, or because you will not take the trouble."
"Pardon, I am in error: it is because you cannot explain what you see."
"What?" Don Miguel said, slightly piqued by this remark.
"Certainly," Valentine went on phlegmatically; "and you shall confess I am in the right."
In spite of his good sense, and the other great qualities with which he was gifted, Valentine had the weakness, common to many men, of liking, under certain circumstances, to, make a parade of his knowledge of desert life. This defect, which is very frequently found on the prairies, in no way injured his character, and was pardonable after all.
"You shall see," he said with that sort of condescension which persons who know a thing thoroughly, assume on explaining it to the ignorant: "Red Cedar has been here and has disappeared: I arrive and look: he cannot have flown away, or buried himself in the ground: hence he must absolutely have gone by some road a man can use; look at these leaves scattered over the rock, they are sign No. 1."
"Hang it! That is clear enough, we are not at the season when trees lose their leaves: hence they did not fall."
"Because, if they had, they would be yellow and dry, and instead they are green, crumpled, and some are even torn; hence it is positive, I think, that they have been removed from the tree by violence."
"That is true," Don Miguel muttered, his surprise at its height.
"Now, let us seek what unknown force tore them from the tree."
While saying this, Valentine had begun walking on, with his body bent to the ground, in the direction where he had seen the black line. His friends imitated his movements and followed him, also looking carefully on the ground. All at once Valentine stooped, picked up a piece of bark about the size of half his hand, and showed it to Don Miguel.