"Let my brother speak!" Antinahuel resumed; "the toqui of his nation interrogates him."
"He whom my brother names as the great warrior of the palefaces, is the prisoner of his enemies; his soldiers are dispersed like grains of wheat scattered over the field."
"Wah!" Antinahuel cried with feigned anger, "my brother has a lying tongue, what he says cannot be true; does the eagle become the prey of the owl? The great warrior has an arm strong as the thunder of Pillian. Nothing can resist it."
"That arm, however powerful, has not been able to save him; the eagle is captive: the courageous puma was surprised by cunning foxes; he has fallen, treacherously overcome, into the snare they had laid before his feet."
"But his soldiers? the great toqui of the whites had a numerous army."
"I have told my father; the chief being made captive, the soldiers, bewildered and struck with fear by Guécubu, fell beneath the blows of their angry enemies."
"The chiefs who were conquerors, no doubt, pursued them."
"What for? The palefaces are women without courage: as soon as their enemies weep and pray for pardon they forgive them."
At this news the toqui could not repress a movement of impatience, but he soon recovered himself.
"Brothers ought not to be inexorable," he said, "when they lift the hatchet against each other: they may wound a friend without wishing it. The pale warriors have done well."