When Natah Otann entered the lodge inhabited by the white men, under pretext of warning them to prepare for the chase, his searching eye in a few seconds had explored every corner of the building. The Indian Chief was too clever to omit noticing the Count's constraint and embarrassment: but he understood that it would be impolitic to show the suspicions he had conceived. Hence he did not in the slightest degree affect to notice the annoyance caused by his presence, and continued the conversation with that politeness the Redskins can display when they choose to take the trouble. On their side the Count and Bright-eye at once regained their coolness.
"I did not hope to find my White brother already risen," Natah Otann said with a smile.
"Why not?" the young man replied; "a desert life accustoms one to little sleep."
"Then the Palefaces will go and hunt with their red friends?"
"Certainly, if you have no objection."
"Did I not myself propose to Glass-eye to procure them a true chase?"
"That is true," the young man said, with a laugh; "but take care, Chief, I have become uncommonly fastidious since I have been in the prairie; there is hardly any game I have not hunted, as it was the love of sport alone that brought me into these unknown countries; hence, I repeat, I shall expect choice game."
Natah Otann smiled proudly.
"My brother will be satisfied," he said.
"And what is the animal we are about to follow?" the young man asked.