"That will be capital, for I expect a little reinforcement to come in."
"Then I shall give the word to start and go when I see you at dawn," observed the hunter, taking up his rifle as he rose.
"Do you mean you are going so untimely?"
"Yes. Look here, I haven't asked a question about the reinforcement you mention, though that interests the guide. So don't you put any to me," returned Dearborn, ironically.
"Quite right. But whilst you may keep back what you please from the chief, he must confide everything in the head scout. I am adding some women and children to the band. They will weaken us, but be a tower of strength by and bye. I can say no more at present."
"You need not have said so much."
"When you see them you will see all the women—that is, except a companion of my dear niece—a Scotch lady, who came to our camp for refuge from the Indians who destroyed her party."
"A regular 'squaw' band," remarked the Englishman, naturally enough contemptuous if he had already imbibed the hunter's sentiments.
The captain approved with a smile, but Doña Rosario seemed to frown, though she appreciated properly the sincerity of the speaker's raillery.
"Good hunting till tomorrow," said the bandit, seeing his friend and partner clear to the outpost, and announcing his status on the way to all comers.