"Listen," resumed the chief.
In fact a strong agitation, resembling that of a hasty march in the thicket, was heard.
"This is not the sound caused by a wild beast," murmured the old chief, shaking his head. "It is the step of a man."
"A man!" cried Gueyma and the Montonero; "It is impossible."
At the same moment the underwood was divided, and a man leaped into the midst of the camp.
It was no other than Emile Gagnepain.
His chest was heaving; notwithstanding the cold, his countenance, perspiring freely, bore witness to the violent exercise which he had undergone, and the rapid course which he had just made through the thickets, in the midst of which he had left his hat and even scraps of his clothes.
He held a double-barrelled gun in his hand. At first, blinded by the sudden transition from darkness to light, the young man could distinguish but imperfectly the persons to whom he had so abruptly introduced himself, but he soon distinguished the two Indians.
"Ah! Pardieu, gentlemen," cried he, getting his breath with difficulty; "I have been hunting this wild beast for the last three hours; I hope you will let me kill this magnificent animal."
"Be it so!" courteously answered the two Indians, putting the butt of their guns to the ground.