But we know that, temporarily at least, the squatter's son had nothing to fear from this vain search. The miraculous flight of a man from the middle of a camp of warriors, unperceived by the sentries, had something so extraordinary about it, that the Comanches, superstitious as all Indians, were disposed to believe in the intervention of the Genius of Evil. The whole camp was in confusion: every one ran in a different direction, brandishing torches. The circle widened more and more. The warriors, carried away by their ardour, left the clearing and entered the forest.
All at once a shrill cry broke through the air, and everybody stopped as if by enchantment.
"Oh," White Gazelle asked, "what is that?"
"Koutonepi, my brother," Unicorn replied briefly, as he repeated the signal.
"Let us run to meet him," the girl said.
They hurried forward, closely followed by a dozen warriors, and soon stood under the tree where Valentine and his companions were standing. The hunter saw them coming, and hence called to them.
"Where are you?" Unicorn asked.
"Up this larch tree," Valentine shouted; "stop and look."
The Indians looked up.
"Wah!" Unicorn said with astonishment, "What is my brother doing there?"