"Eh! eh!" he said in English, "Who the devil are you—and what are you seeking here?"
"Caramba!" the general replied, throwing his gun behind him, and ordering his people to do the same; "we are travellers, fatigued with a long journey; the sun is hot, and we ask permission to rest a short time in your rancho."
These words being spoken in Spanish, the trapper replied in the same language,—
"Approach without fear; Black Elk is a good sort of fellow when people do not seek to thwart him; you shall share the little he possesses, and much good may it do you."
At the name of Black Elk the guide could not repress a movement of terror; he wished even to say a few words, but he had not time, for the hunter, throwing his gun upon his shoulder, and leaping into his saddle with a bound, advanced towards the Mexicans.
"My rancho is a few paces from this spot," said he to the general; "if the señorita is inclined to taste the well-seasoned hump of a buffalo, I am in a position to offer her that piece of politeness."
"I thank you, caballero," the young lady replied, with a smile; "but I confess that at this moment I stand in more need of repose than anything else."
"Everything will come in its time," the trapper said sententiously. "Permit me, for a few moments, to take the place of your guide."
"We are at your orders," said the general; "go on, we will follow you."
"Forward! then," said the trapper, placing himself at the head of the little troop.