"I am waiting for my brother to explain."
"The desert is not quiet," the chief went on in a grave voice; "the vultures and white-headed eagles are flying in long circles, the deer and buffaloes are restless, the asshatas are bounding in every direction, and the antelopes flying with all the speed of their limbs northward."
Bloodson frowned and waited a moment ere he replied. The Mexicans examined him anxiously, but at length he raised his head.
"What do you conclude from these signs?"
"This: the Apaches are crossing the prairie; they are numerous, for the desert is disturbed for a very considerable extent."
"Why the Apaches sooner than others?" Bloodson answered. "Cannot wood rangers have produced the excitement you have noticed, as well as the Indians?"
The Comanche warrior shook his head in contradiction.
"They are Apaches," he said, peremptorily. "This is not the season of the great hunts, the animals are not troubled by man at this period of the year. They know it, and do not desperately fly from him, as they are certain of not being pursued. The wood rangers march alone, or only three or four together, employing precautions not to startle the game. But the Apaches are ignorant dogs, who, like the coyotes they resemble, continually assemble in large parties, and, instead of marching like men or warriors, pass like a hurricane over the prairie, burning, destroying, and devastating everything in their passage."
"That is true," Bloodson muttered; "your sagacity has not deceived you, chief; only the Apaches can be near here."
"Good; and what will my brother do?" the Comanche asked.