After carefully listening to Tranquil's remarks, Blue-fox remained silent for some minutes, during which a violent combat went on in his heart; he felt that he was the dupe of the snare into which he had tried to draw the hunter by reminding him of their old friendship; but the murmurs of admiration, which his warriors were unable to suppress, on seeing the Canadian's noble deed, warned him that he must dissimulate, and feign a gratitude which he was far from experiencing.
The power of an Indian Chief is always very precarious; and he is often constrained, in spite of himself, to bow before the demands of his subordinates, if he does not wish to be overthrown and have a new Chief set up immediately in his place. Blue-fox, therefore, slowly drew his scalping knife from his belt, and let it fall at the hunter's feet.
"The great White hunter and his brothers can continue to follow their path," he said; "the eyes of the Apache warriors are closed, they will not see them. The Palefaces can depart, they will find no one on their road till the second moon from this; but then they must take care; an Apache Chief will set himself on their trail, in order to ask back from them the knife he leaves them, and which he will require."
The Canadian stooped down and picked up the knife, which he passed through his belt.
"When Blue-fox asks me for it, he will find it there," he said, as he pointed to it.
"Och! I will manage to take it again. Now, we are even. Farewell!"
The Chief then bowed courteously to his enemies, made a prodigious bound back, and disappeared in the lofty grass. The Apache warriors uttered their war yell twice, and almost immediately their black outlines disappeared in the gloom. Tranquil waited for a few minutes, and then turned to his comrades.
"Now, we will set out," he said; "the road is free."
"You got out of the scrape cleverly," Loyal Heart said to him; "but it was a terrible risk."
The Canadian smiled, but made no further reply. Then they started.