Joan took advantage of the permission granted and left the camp without delay. The night was dark; the moon was concealed behind thick clouds. The Indian directed his course with difficulty in the obscurity. He was more than once forced to retrace his steps, and to go wide about to avoid places which he thought dangerous. He proceeded thus, feeling his way as it were, till daybreak. At the first glimmering of dawn he glided like a serpent through the high grass, raising his head occasionally, and trembling in spite of himself, for he found he had, in the darkness, stumbled upon an Indian encampment. He had, inadvertently, got into the midst of the detachment commanded by Black Stag, who had succeeded in collecting the remains of his troops, and who, at that moment, formed the rearguard of the Araucanian army, whose bivouac fires smoked on the horizon, within distance of two leagues at the most.
But Joan was not a man to be easily disconcerted; he noticed that the sentinels had not yet perceived him, and he did not despair of getting out of the scrape he had blundered into. He did not, however deceive himself or attempt to fancy his position not critical; but as he confronted it coolly, he resolved to do all he could to extricate himself, and took his measures accordingly. After reflecting for a few seconds, he crept in a direction opposite to that he had before followed, stopping at intervals to listen. Everything went on well for a few minutes; nothing stirred. A profound silence seemed to hover over the country; Joan was beginning to breathe freely; in a few minutes he should be safe. Unfortunately, at that moment chance brought Black Stag directly before him; the vigilant chief had been making the round of his posts. The vice-Toqui turned his horse towards him.
"My brother must be tired; he has crept through the grass like a viper so long," he said, with an ironical smile; "he had better change his position."
"That is just what I am going to do," said Joan, without displaying the least astonishment.
And bounding up like a panther, he leaped upon the horse behind the chief, and seized him round the body.
"Help!" Black Stag cried, in a loud voice.
"One word more and you are a dead man!" Joan whispered in a threatening tone.
But it was too late; the chief's cry of alarm had been heard, and a crowd of warriors hastened to his succour.
"Cowardly dog!" said Joan, who saw his chance was gone, but who did not yet despair; "die then!" He plunged his poisoned dagger between his shoulders and cast him onto the ground, where the chief writhed in the agonies of death, and expired as if struck by thunderbolt. Joan lifted his horse with his knees and dashed full speed against the Indians who barred his passage. This attempt was a wild one. A warrior armed with a gun took a steady aim, the horse rolled upon the ground, with its skull crushed, and dragging its rider with it in the fall. Twenty warriors rushed upon Joan, and bound him before he could make a movement to defend himself. But he had time to conceal the dagger, which the Indians did not even think of looking for, as they did not know what weapon he had employed.
The death of Black Stag, one of the most respected warriors of the nation, threw the Araucanos into a state of consternation. An Ulmen immediately took the command in his place, and Joan and a Chilian soldier captured in the preceding combat, were sent together to the camp of Antinahuel. The latter felt great regret at receiving the news of the death of Black Stag; it was more than a friend he had lost, it was a right arm!