in their toils
a whole camp of southern warriors."

"So much the worse for the gold-seekers," said Bois-Rose.

"If the warriors of the north will join the Indians with their long
rifles, they shall share the horses and the treasures of the men of the
south; the Indians and the whites will dance together round the corpses
of their enemies, and the ashes of their camp."

Bois-Rose and Pepe looked at each other in astonishment, and explained
to Fabian the proposal made to them, but the fire of their eyes and
their disdainful looks, showed that the noble trio had but one opinion
on the subject--that of perishing rather than aiding the Indians to
triumph even over their mortal enemies.

"Do you hear the miscreant," cried Bois-Rose, using in indignation an
image fit for the Indians, "he takes jaguars far jackals. Ah! if Fabian
were not here, a bullet would be my answer."

Meanwhile, the Indian feeling certain of the presence of the hunters in
the island, began to lose patience--for the orders of the chiefs had
been peremptory to attack the whites--but he, having his own opinions,
wished to prove them right. He knew that the American or Canadian rifle
never misses its aim, and three such allies seemed to him not to be
despised. He therefore continued to speak:

"The buffalo of the prairies is not more easy to follow than the white
man; the track of the buffalo tells the Indian his age, his size, and
the time of his passing. There are behind the reeds of the floating
island a man as strong as a bison, and taller than the tallest rifle, a
warrior of mingled north and south blood, and a young warrior of the
pure south, but the alliance of these two with the first, indicates that
they are enemies of the southern whites--for the weakest ever seek the
friendship of the strongest and espouse their cause."

"The sagacity of these dogs is admirable," said Bois-Rose.

"Because they flatter you," said Pepe, who seemed somewhat annoyed at
what the Indian had said.

"I await for the answer of the whites," continued the Blackbird. "I
hear only the sound of the river, and the wind which says to me, `the
whites imagine a thousand errors; they believe that the Indian has eyes
behind his back, that the track of the bison is invisible, and that
reeds are ball proof.' The Blackbird laughs at the words of the wind."

"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, "if we had entered but two miles higher up the
river!"

"A friend disdained becomes a terr