The latter obeyed.
"Let that man rise," Tranquil continued.
Black-deer gave him a ferocious glance, but made no reply.
"It must be so," the hunter said.
The Comanche Chief bent his head, restored his enemy to liberty, and fell back a pace. With one bound Blue-fox sprang up; but, instead of attempting flight, he crossed his arms on his chest, resumed that mask of impenetrable stoicism which Indians so rarely doff, and waited. Tranquil regarded him for a moment with a singular expression, and then said—-
"I was wrong just now, and my brother must pardon me. No, the memories of youth are not effaced like clouds which the wind bears away. When I saw the terrible danger that menaced Blue-fox, my heart was affected, and I remembered that we had been for a long time friends. I trembled to see his blood flow before me. Blue-fox is a great Chief, he must die as a warrior in the sunshine, he is free to rejoin his friends; he can go."
The Chief raised his head.
"On what conditions?" he said, drily.
"On none. If the Apache warriors attack us, we will fight them; if not, we will continue our journey peacefully. The Chief must, decide, for events depend on his will."
Tranquil, in acting as he had done, had furnished an evident proof of the profound knowledge he possessed of the character of the Redskins, among whom any heroic action is immediately appreciated at its full value. It was a dangerous game to play, but the situation of the hunters was desperate, despite their courage; if the fight had begun, they must have been naturally crushed by numbers, and pitilessly massacred. For the success of his plan the Canadian could only calculate on a good feeling on the part of Blue-fox, and he had staked his all.