"I will remain if my father wishes it," the chief answered, quietly.
"Let him remain, then; his brother has no secrets from him;" and turning to the still motionless warrior, he added, "my brother can speak."
"The Chiaplos are fighting," the latter replied; "they have dug up the hatchet and turned it against their own breasts."
"Oh!" the toqui exclaimed with feigned astonishment; "my brother must be mistaken, the palefaces are not cougars, to devour each other."
And he turned towards Black-Stag, with a smile of undefinable expression.
"Theg-teg is not mistaken," the Indian warrior replied, gravely; "his eyes have seen clearly: the stone toldería, which the palefaces call Valdivia, is at this moment a more ardent furnace than the volcano of Autaco, which serves as a retreat for Guécubu, the genius of evil."
"Good!" the toqui remarked, coldly, "my son has seen well; he is a warrior brave in battle, but he is likewise prudent; did he stand apart to rejoice, without seeking to learn which side prevailed?"
"Theg-teg is prudent, but when he looks he means to see; he knows all, my father may question him."
"Good! the great warrior of the palefaces set out from here to fly to the help of his soldiers; the advantage is with him."
The Indian smiled, but made no reply.