"Yes; I believe it is so the palefaces pronounce his name. Did my brother know him?" the chief added, with ill-concealed curiosity.
"No," replied the young man. "Although born in his reign, I was never able to get sight of him, and he is now dead."
"My brother is mistaken," said the Puelche, solemnly; "such warriors as he do not die. When they have performed their task upon earth they go to Paradise—to hunt with Pillian, the master of the world."
The young men bowed, as if convinced.
"It is very singular," said Louis, "that the reputation of that powerful genius should have spread to the most remote and unknown regions of the globe, and be preserved pure and brilliant among these rude men; whilst in that France, for which he did everything men invariably seek to lessen it, and even to destroy it."
"Like all their compatriots, who, from time to time, traverse our hunting grounds, our brothers have, doubtless, trading purposes in coming among us. Where are your goods?" said the chief.
"We are not traders," replied Valentine; "we came to visit our brothers, the Araucanos, of whose wisdom and hospitality we have heard much."
"The Moluchos love the French," the chief said, flattered by the compliment; "my brothers will be well received in our villages."
"To what tribe does my brother belong?" asked Valentine, inwardly delighted at the good opinion the Indians entertained of his compatriots.
"I am one of the principal Ulmens of the sacred tribe of the Great Hare," the chief said, proudly.