"I am bound to confess it. This is the second time such a thing has occurred to me, and under exactly similar circumstances. The first time, I remember, it was in 1843. I was on the—"
"But if the hunter does not know these regions," Flying Eagle interrupted him unceremoniously, "my brother, the warrior knows them."
"I?" Don Leo said. "Not the least in the world, Chief. I assure you it is the first time I have come this way."
"My brother is mistaken, he has been here already; but, like all the Palefaces, my brother's memory is short, he has forgotten."
"No, Chief. I am too well acquainted with the desert not to recognize, at the first glance, any spot which I have once visited."
The Indian smiled at this pretension, which was so poorly justified. "Yes, that has happened to my brother today," he said, "though only three moons, at the most, have passed since he visited these parts in company with the Pale hunter, to whom he gave the name of Marksman."
The adventurer started, and a lively emotion could be seen on his face. "What do you mean, Redskin, in Heaven's name?" he said quickly.
"I mean that Quiepaa Tani is there," the Indian answered, stretching out his arm in a south-western direction; "that we are but a half day's journey distant from it at the most."
"Can it be possible?"
"Oh!" the young man exclaimed, energetically, as he suddenly rose; "thanks for these good news, Chief!"