The Indian looked at him for a moment in amazement; then he repeated, "My brother will die tomorrow."
"I heard you perfectly well, chief," the Canadian said, with a smile; "and I repeat again, do you believe it?"
"Let my brother look," the sachem said, with a significant gesture.
The hunter raised his head.
"Bah!" he said, carelessly; "I see that all the preparations are made, and conscientiously so, but what does that prove? I am not dead yet, I suppose."
"No, but my brother will soon be so."
"We shall see tomorrow," Bright-eye answered, shrugging his shoulders.
And leaving the astonished chief, he lay down at the foot of a tree and fell asleep. His sleep was so real, that the Indians were obliged to wake him next morning at daybreak. The Canadian opened his eyes, yawned two or three times, as if going to put his jaw out, and got up. The Redskins led him to the post of torture, to which he was firmly fastened.
"Well!" Natah Otann said, with a grin, "what does my brother think at present?"
"Eh!" Bright-eye answered, with that magnificent coolness which never deserted him, "do you fancy that I am already dead?"