"Now you are in my power, chief," the Mexican said, "and you will be obliged to consent to my terms."
The Apache grinned, and uttered a shrill whistle.
At this signal fifty Indian warriors appeared, as if they had sprung from the ground, and that so suddenly, that the two white men were surrounded in an instant by an impassable circle.
"Deuce!" Belhumeur said in an aside, "that complicates matters. How will they get out of that?"
"And we?" Louis whispered in his ear.
The Canadian replied by that shrug of the shoulders which signifies in all languages, "We must trust in Heaven," and began looking again, interested as he was in the highest degree by the unexpected changes of scene.
"Cucharés!" the Mexican said to his companion, "Hold that scoundrel tight and at the least suspicious movement kill him like a dog."
"Be calm, Don Martial," the lepero answered, pulling from his vaquera boot a knife, whose sharp blade flashed with a bluish tinge in the moon's rays.
"What decision does the Black Bear come to?" the Tigrero went on, addressing the chief lying at his feet.
"The life of a chief belongs to thee, dog of the palefaces: take it if thou darest!" the Apache replied with a smile of contempt.