"Good evening, my dear."
Then he put her down on the ground again, and not troubling himself further about her, fell heavily on a bench near the fire, and thrust his feet toward the fire.
"Come, wife," he said, after the expiration of a moment, "the supper, in the fiend's name! I have a coyote's hunger."
The wife did not let this be repeated. A few moments later an immense dish of frijoles, with pimiento, smoked on the table, with large pots of pulque. The meal was short and silent, the four men eating with extreme rapacity. So soon as the beans had disappeared Red Cedar and his sons lit their pipes, and began smoking, while drinking large draughts of whiskey, though still not speaking. At length Red Cedar took his pipe from his lips, and hit the table sharply, while saying in a rough voice,—
"Come, women, decamp! You have nothing more to do here. You are in our way, so go to the deuce!"
Ellen and her mother immediately went out, and entered their separate apartment. For a few minutes they could be heard moving about, and then all became silent again.
Red Cedar made a sign, and Sutter rose and gently put his ear to the parting board. He listened for a few moments while holding his breath, and then returned to his seat, saying laconically,—
"They are asleep."
"Quick, my whelps!" the old squatter said in a low voice. "We have not a minute to lose: the others are expecting us."
A strange scene then occurred in this mean room, which was merely illumined by the expiring light of the hearth. The four men arose, opened a large chest, and produced from it various objects of strange shapes—leggings, mittens, buffalo robes, collars of grizzly bear claws; in a word, the complete costumes of Apache Indians.