"Good!" said Trangoil-Lanec.
"The Muruches are not Huincas," Curumilla said.
"But a great misfortune has happened to us," Louis continued sorrowfully; "Don Tadeo, our dearest friend—"
"Well?" Curumilla interrupted.
"He is dead," said Valentine; "he was killed in the battle yesterday."
"Is my brother certain of what he states?"
"At least I suppose so, as his body has not been found."
"Let my brothers be consoled," said the Ulmen; "the Great Eagle of the Whites is not dead."
"Does the chief know that?" the two young men exclaimed in a breath.
"I do know it," replied Trangoil-Lanec. "Let my brothers listen. Curumilla and I are chiefs in our tribe; if our opinions prevented us from fighting for Antinahuel, they prevented us also from bearing arms against our nation. Our friends wished to go and join the Great Eagle; we left them to act as they pleased. They wished to protect a friend; they were right. We allowed them to go; but after their departure we thought of the young maiden of the palefaces, and we reflected that if the Aucas lost the battle, the maiden, according to the orders of the Toqui, would be the first placed in safety; in consequence we squatted among the bushes by the side of the road which, according to all probability, the mosotones would take when flying with their charge. The battle lasted long; as they always do, the Aucas died bravely."