"Be it so," John went on: "your observation is just. Chief, so let us deliberate; I am anxious to come to a definitive understanding with you."
The Indian bowed gravely to the speaker, sat down, lit his pipe, and, began smoking with evident pleasure; the hunters took seats by his side, and, like him, remained silent during the whole period their tobacco lasted.
At length, the Chief shook the ashes out of the bowl on his thumbnail, and prepared to speak.
At the same instant a detonation was heard, and a bullet cut away a branch just over the Chiefs head.
The three men leaped to their feet, and seizing their arms, prepared bravely to repulse the enemies who attacked them so suddenly.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
THE PANTHER-KILLER.
Between the Larch-tree hacienda and the Venta del Potrero, just half way between the two places, or at about forty miles from either, two men were sitting on the banks of a nameless stream, and conversing, as they supped on pemmican and a few boiled camotes.
These two men were Tranquil, the Canadian, and Quoniam, the Negro.