And drawing a pistol from his belt, he set the hammer. He immediately heard, like a funeral echo, the sharp sound of another hammer being set by his adversary.
Still, this sound, instead of increasing the half-breed's apprehensions, seemed, on the contrary, to calm them.
"What is the meaning of that?" he asked himself, mentally, as he shook his head, "Can I be mistaken? have I not to deal with an Apache?"
After this aside, during which Lanzi sought in vain to distinguish his unknown foe, he shouted in a loud voice:—
"Hilloah, who are you?"
"Who are you?" a masculine voice replied, emerging from the darkness, in a tone quite as resolute as that of the half-breed.
"That's a singular answer," Lanzi went on.
"Not more singular than the question."
These words were exchanged in excellent Spanish. The half-breed, now certain that he had to deal with a white man, banished all fear, and uncocking his pistol returned it to his girdle, as he said good-humouredly:—
"You must feel like myself, Caballero, inclined to draw breath after so long a ride; shall we rest together?"