Tigercat gave a sigh of satisfaction.
"Let my brother, the amantzin open his ears," said he. "I am about to leave the atepelt, I hope to be back tonight; but my absence may be for two or three days. I leave my brother in my stead and place; he will command the warriors, and will forbid them to go far from the village, or approach the frontiers of the palefaces. It is important that the Gachupinos (Mexicans) should not learn that we are so near them; to do so would mar our plan. Does my brother understand?"
"The Tigercat has no forked tongue; the words breathed from his mouth are clear. His son understands."
"Good. I can go in peace: my brother will watch over the tribe."
"I will obey the orders of my father. If he is absent many suns, he will not have to reproach his son."
"Ugh! My son's words lift the skin that covered my heart and filled it with sorrow. The Master of Life watch over him! I go."
"Ugh! My brother is a sage warrior. The Wacondah will protect him on his road; he will succeed."
The two men gravely saluted each other. The amantzin remained by the fire; the chief departed.
It is probable that, if the old sachem had remarked the expression of knavish hate on the face of the sorcerer at the moment they parted, he would not have quitted the village.
As the Tigercat threw himself into the saddle with a lightness hardly to be expected at his years, the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and night enveloped the prairie.