"This," Valentine went on: "surround him, that is to say, enclose him in a circle whence he cannot emerge, by securing allies among all the desert Indians; but it is understood that these allies will act separately, until we have so well succeeded in tracking the villain that he must surrender."
"Yes, your idea is good, though difficult and dangerous in its execution."
"Not so much as you suppose," Valentine responded warmly. "Listen to me: tomorrow, at daybreak, Curumilla and myself will go in search of Red Cedar's trail, and I swear to you that we shall find it again."
"Good," said Don Miguel; "and afterwards?"
"Wait; while one of us remains to watch the bandit, the other will return to warn you of the spot where he is. During that time you will have formed alliances with the pueblos Indians, and be in a condition to force the boar in its lair."
"Yes," Bloodson remarked, "that plan is simple, and for that very reason must succeed. It is a struggle of cunning, that is all."
"Yes," General Ibañez objected; "but why should we not go on his trail also?"
"Because," Valentine answered, "though you are as brave as your sword, general, you are a soldier—that is to say, you understand nothing of the Indian warfare we are about to carry on, a war composed entirely of ambushes and treachery. You and our friends, in spite of your well-known courage, and I might almost say, on account of it, would prove more injurious than useful, owing to your ignorance of the country in which we are, and the manners of the men we have to fight."
"That is true," Don Miguel said; "our friend is in the right, leave him to act; I am convinced that he will succeed."
"And so am I," Valentine exclaimed, with an accent of conviction; "that is why I wish to be free, so that I may act as I please."