"Very well," said Curumilla; "if the chief requires our presence, he will imitate the cry of the water-hawk; if he is obliged to remain with the Aucas the song of the goldfinch will warn us of it."
"That is settled," Trangoil-Lanec answered; "but what is my brother's second observation?"
The count rummaged in his haversack, took out some paper, wrote a few words upon a sheet, which he folded and handed to the chief, saying—
"It is particularly important that those whom we wish to deliver should not thwart our plans; perhaps Don Tadeo may not recognise my brother. The chief will slip this necklace into the hands of the young pale woman."
"That shall be done; the young blue-eyed maiden shall have the necklace, the chief replied with a smile.
"Well, now," said Curumilla, "let us take the track."
"Yes, time presses," said Valentine.
Towards the evening of the second day, Trangoil-Lanec, leaving his companions to establish their encampment upon the declivity of a little hill, at the entrance of a natural grotto, clapped spurs to his horse, and was soon out of sight. He directed his course towards the spot where the Black Serpents had stopped for the night—a spot announced to the clear-sighted Indian by a thin thread of white smoke. When he arrived at a certain distance from the camp, the chief saw two Indian Black Serpents suddenly spring up before him, clothed in their war costume.
"Where is my brother going?" one of the Black Serpents asked, advancing towards him.
"Good!" the chief replied, throwing his gun, which he held in his left hand, on his shoulder. "Trangoil-Lanec has recognised the trail of his brothers the Black Serpents, and he wishes to smoke at their fire."