Pincheira hesitated.
"At once," he said, with a gesture full of supreme grace.
The Chilian, who was a semi-savage, yielding involuntarily to Nocobotha's superiority, obeyed, and five horses of great value, and ready saddled and bridled, were led up by two Indians.
"Chief," Pedrito said, in a slightly shaking voice, "I am not grateful for my life, as I do not fear death; but, in my brothers' names and my own, I thank you for our sister. We never forget an insult or a kindness. Farewell! Perhaps I shall someday have the opportunity to prove to you that we are not ungrateful."
The chief bowed without answering. The bomberos grouped round Mercedes, returned his salute, and went off slowly.
"Well, it was your wish," Pincheira said, shrugging his shoulders in vexation.
"Patience!" Nocobotha answered, in a deep voice.
During this time an immense fire had been kindled at the foot of the tree of Gualichu, where the Indians, whose superstitious fears had been dissipated with the darkness, had again assembled in council. A few paces behind the chiefs, the Aucas and Puelche horsemen formed a formidable cordon round the council fire, while Patagonian scouts dashed about the desert to scare away intruders, and insure the secrecy of the deliberations.
In the east the sun was darting forth its flames, the dry and naked desert was blended with the illimitable horizon; in the distance the Cordilleras displayed the eternal snow of their peaks. Such was the landscape, if we may call it so, in which these barbarous warriors stood, dressed in strange costumes near the symbolic tree. This majestic scene involuntarily recalled other times and other climates, when, by the light of burning towns, the ferocious companions of Attila rushed to the conquest, and rejuvenescence of the Roman world.
Nocobotha took up his speech at the point where it had been interrupted by the unexpected interference of the bombero.