"Can't see why I'm more'n I should be; ye've nothing to eat an' I have; that means a divide to Menke, Prince."
"I have often heard of the liberality and hospitable character of the men of the mountains. You have proven, by your kindness, Menke, that the report is well founded.
"It doesn't matter how you put it, Prince; that's our way o' doin'; an' ef ye've no objection to remainin' here alone, I'll take yer man 'long o' me—what's 'is name?" he suddenly asked, looking at Oza. The name was given, and he continued: "Wull, Oza, ef yer master's willin', ye can g'long o' me, and I'll find ye somethin' more than pheasant an' hare to eat."
It was arranged for Oza to accompany the hunter to the plateau, to bring in such food as he might procure for them. When ready to go, Menke threw the carcass of the mountain lion (for such it was) over his shoulder, and started to leave the ravine.
"Hunter!" called the prince, as he was moving off, "you will keep our hiding-place a secret. Do not mention to anyone, not even to your closest friends, that you have seen us; curiosity might lead to our discovery."
"Don't 'low any such notion as that to spoil yer sleep, Prince," returned the hunter. "When Menke undertakes to do somethin', he doesn't count on callin' in his neighbors. Think he knows what's what, if he does live on the mountains." With this brusk and emphatic reply he left the ravine, followed by Oza.
Hualcoyotl was now alone. His situation was not the happiest, and was calculated to call up disturbing reflections.
For some time after the departure of the hunter and Oza, he remained in his retreat, pondering on his peculiarly trying position. Growing nervous and uneasy, he concluded to venture out on the side of the mountain, which he did. Finding a place whence he could observe unseen the approaches to his quarters, he put himself on guard. As the hours passed and Oza did not return, he grew still more uneasy. He had eaten nothing during the day, and hunger was becoming a disturbing influence. When night came on and Oza had not returned, he felt that some mishap had certainly befallen him. He went back to his retreat, under cover of darkness, feeling much depressed in spirits, where we leave him, to follow the hunter and Oza.
After leaving the prince, they passed noiselessly down the side of the mountain and out on to a narrow, level stretch of ground, along which they went for a short distance, passing, on their way, some rudely constructed huts, formed of sticks and earth, which were inhabited by the class of mountaineers referred to by Menke as living tough.
The hunter's object was to procure for the fugitives a supply of uncooked food, but he did not deem it expedient to apply to the occupants of the huts for it, so passed on.