"My father is brave," said the one who was spokesman.
"At my age," replied the veteran, "one does not fear death; one often looks upon it as a blessing."
"My father bears on his head the snows of many winters; he must be one of the wisest chiefs of his nation. The young men listen to him with respect around the council fire."
The major bowed modestly.
"Do not talk of me," he said; "we have met to discuss graver matters. Why have you demanded this interview?"
"Will not my father lead us to the council fire of his nation?" said the warrior in insinuating tones. "Is it proper for great sachems, renowned warriors, to treat of important affairs on horseback, between two armies ready to come to blows?"
"I understand your meaning, chief; but cannot comply with your desires. When a town is invested, no leader of the enemy can be admitted as flag of truce."
"Does my father fear that we four should take the town?" said the Apache, laughing, but secretly vexed at the abortion of his plan to communicate with the friends he undoubtedly had in the place.
"It is not my custom to fear anything," replied the major; "I tell you a fact of which you were ignorant, that is all. And now, if you wish to use this pretext to break off the interview, you can do so; I have nothing more to do than to go back."
"Oho! My father is hasty for his age. Why break off the interview, when we have not even mentioned the object of it?"