"I will remark to my brother that I demand nothing of him. I thought it my duty to make certain observations to him; if he does not find them just, his heart is good. He will pardon me when he remembers that I am only a poor Indian, whose intellect is obscured by a cloud, and that I had no intention to wound him."
"No, no, Chief," the hunter said quickly; "as we are on this question, it is better to clear it up at once, in order not to have to return to it again, and that nothing may arise between us for the future."
"I am at my brother's orders, ready to hear, if it pleases him, and willing still to wait, if he considers it necessary."
"I thank you, Chief; but I adhere to my first resolution. I prefer to tell you all."
The Comanche smiled cunningly. "Is my brother really resolved to speak?" he asked.
"Good. Then my brother has nothing to add. All that he has to say to me I know. He can tell me nothing more than I have guessed myself."
The hunter could not repress a start of surprise. "Oh, oh," he muttered, "what is the meaning of that, Chief? Why, then, the reproaches you addressed to me?"
"Because I wished to make my brother understand that a friend must hold nothing concealed from another, especially when that friend has been proved for long years, when his fidelity is staunch, and he can be depended on like a second self."
The hunter smiled slightly, but at once regained his gravity. "Thanks for the lesson you give me, Chief," he said, holding out his hand cordially. "I deserve it, for I really failed in my confidence to you. The service I expect from you is so important for us that I put off daily asking it of you, and, in spite of myself, I confess I should probably not have made up my mind till the very last moment."
"I know it," the Comanche said, his good temper entirely restored.
"Still," the hunter continued, "in spite of the assurance that you know my plans, it would be, perhaps, as well for me to enter into certain details of which you are ignorant."
"I repeat to my brother that I know all. Flying Eagle is one of the first Chiefs of his nation; he has a quick ear and a piercing sight. For nearly two moons he has not left the great Pale warrior; during that period many events have happened, many words have been spoken before him. The Chief has seen, he has heard, and all is as clear in his mind as if these things had been drawn for him on one of those collars which the white men know so well how to make, and some of which he has seen in the hands of the Chief of the Prayer."