The young Indian bowed in his turn with the native courtesy characteristic of the Redskin, and replied in a guttural voice, which, however, was very gentle—"For a long time the sachems have been informed of the coming of the Great Bear of their Nation; they thought that only one chief was worthy saluting Stronghand on his return. Sparrowhawk is happy that he was chosen by them."
"I thank the sachems of my nation," the hunter said, with a meaning glance at the majordomo, "for having designed to do me so signal an honour. Will my son return to the village with us, or will he precede us?"
"Sparrowhawk will go ahead, in order that the guest of Stronghand, my father, may be received with the honours due to a man who comes in the company of the Great Bear."
"Good! My brother will act as becomes a chief. Stronghand will not detain him longer."
The young Indian bowed his head in assent, leapt backwards, and disappeared in the thicket whence he had emerged, with such rapidity, that if the grass had not continued to undulate after his departure, his apparition would have seemed like a dream.
"We can now start again," the hunter said to the majordomo, who was utterly confounded.
"Let us go!" the latter answered, mechanically.
"Well," answered Stronghand, "do you now believe that you have anything to fear among the Papazos?"
"Excuse me; as you said, I was a madman to fear it."
They crossed the plain, following a wild beast track which, after numberless windings, reached a ford, and in about an hour they arrived at the bank of the river. Twelve Papazo Indians, dressed in their war paint and mounted on magnificent horses, were standing motionless and in single file in front of the ford.