Unicorn looked at him sadly.
"The Apaches are pursuing them," he added; "at this moment the village is being attacked, but our friends defend themselves bravely."
"Let us fly to their help," the Mexicans shouted.
Bloodson turned to them.
"Patience," he said; "let the chief explain."
"My pale brother," the Comanche continued, "with one-half of the warriors, will turn the hill and enter the village by the north, while I, with the other half, will enter by the south."
"Good," said Bloodson; "but we are far off yet; perhaps our friends will be unable to hold out till our arrival."
Unicorn smiled scornfully.
"The Apaches are cowardly dogs," he said. "The Comanches will defend themselves: they know not flight."
Without replying, the partisan divided his band, taking the command of one party, and entrusting the other to the Comanche warrior. All these men were Indians, long habituated to a war of ambushes and surprises: this bold stroke was a Godsend to them: with flashing eyes and quivering lips, though apparently unmoved, they impatiently awaited the signal for departure.