"Listen," he said. "I do not fear you, and I will give you a proof of it."
And, with a movement quick as thought, he seized the long tail that hung down the chiefs back, and cut it off with his knife.
"Now," he added, buffeting him with the tress he had cut off, "be off, villain: you are free. I despise you too much to inflict on you any other punishment than that you have undergone. Return to your tribe, and tell your friends how the whites avenge themselves on enemies so contemptible as yourself, and those that resemble you."
At the deadly insult he received the Indian's face became hideous; he suffered a momentary stupor caused by shame and anger; but by a supernatural effort he suddenly overcame his feelings, seized Don Louis' arm, and thrusting his face into the Frenchman's,—
"Mixcoatzin is a powerful chief," he hissed. "Let the Yori remember his name, for he will meet him again."
And, bounding like a tiger, he dashed into the plain, where he at once disappeared.
"Stop!" Don Louis shouted to his friends, who were rushing in pursuit; "Let him escape. What do I care for such a wretch's hatred? He can do nothing to me."
The hunters reluctantly took their seats again by the fire.
"Hum!" Louis added, "I have perhaps committed a folly."
Valentine looked at him.