On the large village square two immense fires have been kindled. Round the first, placed in front of the Council Lodge, are seated White Buffalo, Natah Otann, Red Wolf, and three or four other chiefs of the tribe; round the second some twenty warriors are silently smoking the calumet. Such was the appearance offered by the Kenhas' village at about nine in the evening of the day we return to it.
"Why allow the Palefaces thus to wander about the village?" Red Wolf asked.
Natah Otann smiled.
"Have the white men the eyes of the eagle and the feet of the gazelle, to find again their trail lost in the desert?"
"My father is right, if he speaks of Glass-eye," Red Wolf urged; "but Bright-eye has a Redskin heart."
"Yes; if he was alone he would try to escape, but he will not abandon his friend."
"The latter can follow him."
"Glass-eye has a brave heart, but his feet are weak; he cannot walk in the desert."
Red Wolf looked down, with an air of conviction, and made no reply.
"The hour has arrived to set out; the allied nations are proceeding to the rendezvous," White Buffalo said, in a sombre voice. "It is nine o'clock; the owl has twice given the signal, and the moon is rising."