"They are whites, and those who call themselves soldiers."
"Yes, this track is very distinct. These men, whoever they are, march boldly forward. They feel themselves sufficiently strong, no doubt, to have no need of concealing themselves, but fortunately for us these travellers are proceeding in a direction contrary to that which we follow. We have nothing, then, to fear from them."
"Look, moreover, at the path by which they have entered on their route."
"We can, then, continue to push on ahead; but we cannot be too much on our guard."
"My brother, Arnal, may be tranquil."
"Good; my brother is a wise warrior. I have confidence in him," answered Arnal.
The Agonti bowed, and resumed his position in the advanced guard of the little troop.
Dove's Eye proceeded pensively by the side of her companion; the young girl seemed to have lost all her gaiety, and her charming carelessness. Her head falling on her breast, without noticing anything, with her little hand she gently whipped the horse, without knowing what she was doing—so absorbed was she by her thoughts. Arnal sometimes darted a side glance at her, and a smile of singular expression was perceptible on his lips; but for some reason or other, the young warrior did not manifest any desire to renew the conversation, and appeared satisfied with the obstinate silence of his companion.
Meanwhile the sun began to set, the black shadows of the trees lengthened more and more; night approached.
The Agonti appeared for some minutes a prey to anxious concern. Suddenly he stopped, alighted, stretched himself flat on the ground, and appeared for two or three minutes to listen eagerly.