"Are the fellows afraid of an attack?" the Count asked Bright-eye.
"Not the least in the world," the latter answered; "they are only a few minutes' ride from their village, into which they wish to enter in triumph, in order to do you honour."
"Come, come!" the young man said; "all this is charming; I did not expect, on coming to the prairies, to be present at such singular scenes."
"You have seen nothing yet," the hunter said, ironically: "wait, we are only at the beginning."
"All the better," the Count answered, joyfully.
Natah Otann made a sign, and the warriors closed up again at the same moment; although no one was visible, a noise of conchs, drums, and chichikouès was heard a short distance off. The warriors uttered their war yell, and replied by raising to their lips their war whistles. Natah Otann then placed himself at the head of the party, having the Count on his right, the hunter and Ivon on his left; and, turning towards his men, he brandished his weapon several times over his head, uttering two or three shrill whistles. At this signal the whole troop rushed forward, and turned the corner like an avalanche.
The Frenchman then witnessed a strange scene, which was not without a certain amount of savage grandeur, A troop of warriors from the village came up, like a tornado, to meet the newcomers, shouting, howling, brandishing their arms, and firing their guns. The two parties charged each other with extraordinary fury and at full speed; but when scarce ten yards apart, the horses stopped, as if of their own impulse, and began dancing, curvetting, and performing all the most difficult tricks of the riding school. After these manoeuvres had lasted a few moments, the two bands formed a semicircle opposite each other, leaving a free space between them, in which the chiefs collected. The presentations then began. Natah Otann made a long harangue to the chiefs, in which he gave them an account of his expedition, and the result he had obtained. The sachems listened to it with thorough Indian decorum. When he spoke to them of his meeting with the white men, and what had occurred, they bowed silently, without replying; but one chief, of venerable aspect, who seemed older than the rest, and appeared to be treated with great consideration by his companions, turned a profound and inquiring glance at the Count, when Natah Otann spoke of him. The young man, troubled, in spite of himself, by the fixed glance, stooped down to Bright-eye's ear, and asked him, in a low voice, who the man was.
"That is White Buffalo," the hunter answered, "the European I spoke to you about."
"Ah, ah!" the Count said, regarding him, in his turn, attentively; "I do not know why, but I believe I shall have a serious row with that gentleman before I have done."
The White Buffalo then took the word.