"On my word, I fancy they are Mexicans. Their chief’s name, I think, is Don Miguel Ortega, or something like it."
"Hallo!" Brighteye exclaimed, with a start of surprise; "what's that you said?"
"Don Miguel Ortega. I may be mistaken, but I hardly think so."
"That is strange," the old hunter said, as if speaking to himself.
"I do not see anything strange in it; the name appears to me common enough."
"To you, possibly. And you have made an agreement with him?"
"Signed and sealed."
"As scout?"
"Yes, I say, a thousand times."
"Well, comfort yourself, Marksman; we have many a long day to spend together."