It was about two in the afternoon. Thanks to the labours executed under the surveillance of the captains, the glade had assumed the appearance of an Indian village, by reason of the enramadas (huts), supported against each other, forming streets, which all radiated from one common centre, where, in the midst of a kind of place, was raised an enramada, larger and made with more care, intended to serve for the hut of the council.
Here and there Guaycurus went and came, some carrying water, others wood, others again leading horses to water at a neighbouring stream. The Cougar had set out since the morning, with the party who were charged to gather brushwood; the only chief who remained in the camp was Arnal, as Gueyma had gone off at daybreak, at the head of the hunters.
Arnal was at this moment walking in the camp, in company with Dove's Eye. The graceful girl was laughing and leaping near the chief, whose grave bearing and knitted eyebrows manifested serious thought.
"Look, chief," said the young girl, looking round her with admiration, "how well everything is arranged. If there were women, we might think it was a village."
"Why do you call me chief?" asked the warrior.
"Why, my brother," answered she, ingenuously, "I thought to please you, by giving you the title which belongs to you."
"You are a foolish child, Dove's Eye; your head is empty."
"Yes, but my heart is not," answered she, impulsively.
"What do you mean by that?" said Arnal, with severity.
"Will Gueyma soon return from the chase, my good brother?" pursued the girl, with a calm voice.