"Very good," Don Miguel answered; "all shall be done as you recommend. But where will you be all this while?"'
"You know very well," he answered with a smile of undefinable meaning. "I shall be hunting the buffalo with my friend Unicorn, the great chief of the Comanches."
Hastily breaking off the interview, the hunter wrapped himself in his buffalo robe, stretched himself before the fire, closed his eyes, and slept, or feigned to sleep. After a few minutes' hesitation his friend imitated his example, and the grotto became calm and silent as on the day of the creation.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
UNICORN.
Before retiring to rest Father Seraphin, on the previous evening, had whispered a couple of words in the Indians' ears. The sun had scarce begun to rise a little above the extreme blue line of the horizon ere the missionary opened his eyes, and after a short prayer hurried to the hall in which his companions had remained. The four men were still asleep, wrapped in their furs and buffalo skins.
"Wake up, brothers," Father Seraphin said, "for day is appearing."
The four men started up in an instant.
"My brothers," the young missionary said in a gentle and penetrating voice, "I thought that we ought, before separating, to thank God in common: for the blessings He does not cease to vouchsafe to us—to celebrate our happy meeting of last night. I have, therefore, resolved to hold a mass, at which I shall be happy to see you with that purity of heart which such a duty demands."