"We will get on horseback; we will carefully avoid the Indian camp, using all possible caution not to be tracked; and will then go to the hatto of our brave companion Black Elk, who is a man of good counsel, and who will certainly be useful to us in what we purpose doing."
"Be it so, then," said Belhumeur cheerfully, leaping into his saddle.
The hunters quitted the glade they had slept in, and making a détour to avoid the Indian camp, the smoke of which they perceived within a league of them, they directed their course towards the spot where, in all probability, Black Elk was philosophically employed in laying snares for beavers, the interesting animals that Doña Luz had admired so much.
They had been thus riding on for nearly an hour, chatting and laughing, for the reasonings of Belhumeur had succeeded in convincing Loyal Heart, who, thoroughly knowing the manners of the Indians, was persuaded that his mother was in no danger, when his hounds on a sudden showed signs of excitement, and rushed forward, yelping with symptoms of joy.
"What's the matter with our rastreros?" said Loyal Heart; "one would think they smelt a friend."
"Pardieu! they have scented Black Elk, and we shall probably see them come back together."
"That is not unlikely," the hunter said pensively; and they continued their course.
At the expiration of a few minutes they perceived a horseman riding towards them at full speed, surrounded by the dogs, who ran barking by his side.
"It is not Black Elk," Belhumeur cried.
"No," said Loyal Heart, "it is Nô Eusebio; what can this mean? He is alone; can anything have happened to my mother?"