"What is it, my friend?"
"It is, at break of day, to convene the council, to explain frankly to the warriors the precarious situation in which we are placed, and your firm determination to push forward, whatever happens."
"You wish it, Gueyma?"
"No, my friend, I desire it."
"The one is as good as the other; no matter, you shall be satisfied."
"Thank you, my friend; I see in this your habitual honour."
"In this only?" said the old man, with a sad smile.
The young man turned his head without answering.
"Cougar," he resumed, after a pause, "the night advances; we have nothing more to say; with your permission I will go to sleep, I am not made of granite, like you—I am horribly fatigued; I want to get strength for tomorrow, which, no doubt, will bring rough work."
"Sleep, Gueyma, and may the Great Spirit give you calm repose."