"My brother is welcome," he said. "What does he want of me?"
"To see the face of a friend," the chief answered in a gentle voice.
The two men then bowed after the fashion of the prairie. After this ceremony Valentine went on:
"My father must approach the fire, and smoke from the calumet of his white friends."
"I will do so," Unicorn answered.
And drawing near the fire, he crouched down in Indian fashion, took his pipe from his belt, and smoked in silence. The hunters, seeing the turn this unexpected interview was taking, had fastened up their horses, and seated themselves again round the fire. A few minutes passed thus, no one speaking, each waiting till the Indian chief should explain the motive of his coming. At length Unicorn shook the ashes from his calumet, returned it to his belt, and addressed Valentine.
"Is my brother setting out to hunt buffaloes again?" he said. "There are many this year on the prairies of the Rio Gila."
"Yes," the Frenchman replied, "we are going hunting. Does my brother intend to accompany us?"
"No; my heart is sad.
"What means the chief? Has any misfortune happened to him?"