"No," the Indian said with a shake of the hand; "I am expected at the village of the Buffalo Apaches, who require my counsel and my medicine, in order to undertake, under favourable auspices, a great expedition they are meditating at this moment. My brother will therefore forgive my leaving him, for I must reach the end of my journey this night."
"I will not leave my red brother," Nathan answered; "if he will permit me, I will walk in his moccasins, for my footsteps have the same direction as my brother's."
"I gladly accept my brother's proposition; let us start then."
"I am ready."
After rising and adjusting his dress, the Indian stooped to pick up a small bundle, which probably contained his scanty property. Nathan profited by the movement; swift as thought he drew his knife, and buried it to the hilt between the Indian's shoulders. The unhappy man uttered a stifled cry, stretched out his arms, and fell dead. The American phlegmatically drew his knife from the horrible wound, wiped it in the grass, and returned it to his girdle.
"Hum!" he said, with a grin; "there's a poor devil of a sorcerer, whose skill could not save him: I will try whether I cannot succeed better."
While talking with the redskin, whom he had at first no intention of killing, and whom he only wished to make a protector, a sudden idea crossed his mind. This idea, which at the first blush will seem extraordinary, suited the bandit, owing to the boldness and daring it required to carry it out successfully. He made up his mind to assume the sorcerer's clothes, and pass for him among the redskins. Long conversant with Indian habits and customs, Nathan felt sure he should play this difficult part with all the perfection necessary to deceive even sharper eyes than those of the savages. After assuring himself that his victim gave no sign of life, Nathan began removing his garments, which he put on instead of his own. When this first change was effected, he riffled the sorcerer's bag, took out a mirror, bladders filled with vermilion, and a black pigment, and with small pieces of wood painted on his face the strange figures that were on the sorcerer's. The imitation was perfect; from the face he passed to the body; then he fastened on his hair, and stuck in it the two screech owl feathers. Nathan had frequently disguised himself as an Indian, when going scalp hunting with his father, hence the metamorphosis in a few seconds.
"This carrion must not be found," he said.
Taking the body on his back, he hurled it to the bottom of a precipice.
"Well, that is settled," he continued, with a laugh; "if the Apaches are not satisfied with the great medicine man who is coming to them, they will be difficult to please."