"Do you belong to his party?"
"Heaven forbid!"
"Then, I don't understand anything."
Brighteye seemed to be reflecting seriously for a few moments; then he turned to his friend, and said,—
"Listen to me, Marksman! So surely as you are my oldest friend, I do not wish to see you going to the deuce your own road. I must give you certain information, which will be indispensable to you in doing your duty properly. I see that we shall not sleep this night, so listen to me attentively. What you are about to hear is worth the trouble."
Marksman, startled by the old hunter's solemn accent, looked at him anxiously. "Speak!" he said to him.
Brighteye collected his thoughts for a moment, and then took the word, beginning a long history, to which his audience listened with a degree of interest and attention which increased with every moment; for never, till that day, had they heard the narrative of events so strange and extraordinary.
The sun had risen for a long time, but the hunter was still talking.