"That is different, and I can understand your prudence."
"Good," the Indian added, with a sardonic smile, "wisdom speaks by the mouth of my rather; he is certainly a Chief of prayer, and his lips distil the purest honey."
Fray Antonio drew himself up, and his alarm was beginning to be dissipated; he saw vaguely that the Redskin wished to ask something of him—in short, that he wanted his help. This thought restored his courage, and he tried to complete the effect he fancied he had produced on his Machiavellian questioner.
"What my brother is unable to do, I can undertake," he said, in an insinuating voice.
The Apache gave him a piercing glance.
"Wah!" he replied, "Then my father knows where to find the Chiefs friend?"
"How should I know it?" the monk objected; "You have not told me his name yet."
"That is true; my father is good, he will forgive me. So he does not yet know who the Pale hunter is?"
"I know him, perhaps, but up to the present I am ignorant whom the Chief alludes to."
"Blue-fox is rich; he has numerous horses; he can assemble round his totem one hundred warriors, and ten times, twenty times more. If my father is willing to serve the Sachem, he will find him grateful."