"My brother has explained the reason. Obliged to live in continual trade relations with the miserable Spaniards, the tribes of the flat country have laid down the lance to take up the pickaxe: they have become cultivators; but let not my father be deceived,—the old spirit of their race still dwells within them, and on the day when they are called on to fight for their independence, all will rise at once to punish those who would attempt to enslave them."
"Can that be true?" Antinahuel cried, stopping his horse short, and looking in the speaker's face; "may they be depended upon?"
"What is the use of speaking of the subject at this moment?" said the Apo-Ulmen, with a bantering smile; "has not my father just come from renewing the treaties with the palefaces?"
"That is true," said the toqui, darting a keen look at the Indian warrior: "peace is secured for a long time."
"My father is a wise chief, that which he does is well done," the other replied, casting down his eyes.
Antinahuel was preparing to reply, when an Indian arrived at full speed, and, with a prodigy of skill which these matchless horsemen alone can execute, he stopped suddenly before the two chiefs, and stood as motionless as a statue of bronze. The panting sides of his horse, which ejected clouds from his nostrils, and was spotted with white foam, showed that he had ridden far and fast. Antinahuel looked at him for an instant.
"My son Theg-teg—the thunderer—has made a rapid journey."
"I have executed the orders of my father."
At these words, out of politeness, the Apo-Ulmen pressed the sides of his horse to retire, but Antinahuel laid his hand upon his arm.
"Black-Stag may remain," he said; "is he not my friend?"