The Indian only replied by a gesture of contempt: he wrapped himself in his buffalo robe, and retired slowly.
The bandit looked after him for a moment.
"Miserable dog!" he muttered, "so soon as I can do without you I will settle your account, be assured."
The Indian had disappeared.
"Hum! what shall I be after now?" El Buitre continued.
Suddenly a man bounded like a jaguar, and, before the bandit could even understand what was happening, he was firmly garotted, and reduced to a state of complete powerlessness.
"You do not know what to be after? Well, I will tell you," Valentine remarked, as he sat down quietly by his side.
The first moment of surprise past, the bandit regained all his coolness and audacity, and looked impudently at the hunter.
"By God! I do not know you, comrade," he said; "but I must confess you managed that cleverly."
"You are a connoisseur."