"I see no great inconvenience in doing so. Yes, I love Glass-eye; I love him not only because he saved my life, but because he is one of the most honourable men I ever met."
"Good! for what purpose does Glass-eye traverse the prairie? My brother doubtlessly knows."
"My faith, no! I confess to you, chief, my ignorance on that head is complete. Still, I fancy that, wearied with the life of cities, he has come here with no other object than to calm his soul by the sublime aspect of nature, and the grand melodies of the desert."
The Indian shook his head; the hunter's metaphysical ideas and poetic phrases were so much Hebrew to him, and he did not understand them.
"Natah Otann," he said, "is a chief, he has not a forked tongue; the words he utters are as clear as the blood in his veins. Why does not the hunter speak his language to him?"
"I answer your questions, chief, and that is all. Do you fancy that I would go out of my way to interrogate my friend as to his intentions? They do not concern me; I have no right to seek in a man's heart for the motive of his actions."
"Good! my brother speaks well; his head is grey, and his experience long."
"That is possible, chief; at any rate you and I are not on such friendly terms that we should exchange our thoughts without some restriction, I fancy; you have kept me here for an hour without saying anything, so it is better for us to separate."
"Not yet."
"Why not? Do you imagine I am like you, and that instead of sleeping o' nights as an honest Christian should do, I amuse myself with rushing about the prairie like a jaguar in search of prey?"