"I am wholly in your hands, Bright-eye," he said; "I make no resistance. I only thank you."
"No thanks. I am useful to you today; you may be as useful, or more so, tomorrow."
"Very well. But what is the affair that detains you here, to which you just alluded?" asked Oliver.
"I must say that I do not know, though frankly I have my own suspicions. My friend has not thought proper to explain as yet, but simply gave me a rendezvous here, saying that I might prove useful. That was enough for me, and, as you see, I am here. It would be an act of indiscretion on my part to tell you anything I had not been directly told. Besides, I may be mistaken, and speak to you of a wholly different matter from the true one."
"You are quite right."
"To pass the time I will prepare supper."
"And while doing so tell what manner of man your friend is."
"He is a young man like ourselves, grandson of Kouha-hande. He is himself a chief, and a noted brave. Though young, his reputation is immense. He is tall, athletic, and even elegant of face. His features are handsome, even to effeminacy. His glance, gentle in repose as that of a dove, is, when his anger is aroused, so terrible that few can face it. His physical force is stupendous, his cunning sublime. But you will soon judge for yourself. His enemies call him Kristikam-Seksenan, or Black Thunder; his friends call him Numank-Charake, the brave man, in consequence of his mighty deeds."
"You have simply been describing a hero," said Oliver.
"You shall judge for yourself," smiled the other.