"I am convinced of it," the emigrant said earnestly. The two servants bowed their heads in affirmation.
"You will pardon me, father, if I do not share your opinion," the young man continued. "For my own part, on the other hand, I feel certain that these red devils, who have been following us so long, have eventually understood that they could gain nothing from us but bullets, and, like prudent men, have given up following us further."
"No, no; you are mistaken, my son, it is not so."
"Look ye, father," the young man continued, with a certain amount of excitement, "allow me to make an observation which, I think, will bring you over to my way of thinking."
"Do so, my son; we are here to exchange our opinions freely, and select the best: the common interest is at stake, and we have to act for the safety of all: under circumstances so grave as the present, I should never forgive myself for neglecting good advice, no matter from whom it came; speak, therefore, without timidity."
"You know, father," the young man went on, "that the Indians understand honour differently from ourselves; that is to say, when the success of an expedition is not clearly proved to them, they have no shame about resigning it, because what they seek in the first place is profit."
"I know all that, my son; but I do not see yet what you are driving at."
"You will soon understand me. For nearly two months, from sunrise, the moment we set out, to sunset, which is generally the time of our halt, the Redskins have been following us step by step, and we have been unable to escape for a single moment these most troublesome neighbours, who have watched our every movement."
"That is true," John Black said, "but what do you conclude from that?"
"A very simple thing: they have seen that we were continually on our guard, and that if they attempted to attack us, they would be beaten; hence they have retired, that is all."