"That is the name given, I think, to the nation of my friend." "But among all the hunters I am acquainted with, there is only one who is a Canadian." "Wah!" said the Chief, "Only one?" "Yes; his name is Tranquil, I think, and he is attached to the Larch-tree hacienda." "Wah! That is the very man. Does my father know him?" "Not much, I confess, but still sufficiently to present myself to him." "Very good." "Still, I warn you, Chief, that this man, like all his fellows, leads an extremely vagabond life, being here today and gone tomorrow; so that I am in great doubt as to where I should seek him." "Wah! my father need not trouble himself about that; the Sachem will lead him to the camp of the Tiger killer." "In that case, very good; I will undertake the rest." "My father must carefully retain in his heart the words of Blue-fox. The warriors are awaking; they must know nothing. When the hour arrives, the Chief will tell my father what he wants of him." "As you please, Chief." The conversation broke off here. The warriors were really awaking, and the camp, so quiet a few moments previously, had now the aspect of a hive, when the bees prepare at sunrise to go in search of their daily crop. At a sign from the Chief, the hachesto, or public crier, mounted a fallen tree, and twice uttered a shrill cry. At this appeal all the warriors, even those still lying on the ground, hastened to range themselves behind the Chief. A deep silence then prevailed for several minutes; all the Indians, with their arms folded on their chest, and their faces turned to the rising sun, awaited what the Sachem was about to do. The latter took a calabash full of water, which the hachesto handed him, and in which was a spray of wormwood. Then raising his voice, he sprinkled toward the four cardinal points, saying-- "Wacondah, Wacondah! Thou unknown and omnipotent spirit, whose universe is the temple, Master of the life of man, protect thy children!" "Master of the life of man, protect thy children!" the Apaches repeated in chorus, respectfully bowing. "Creator of the great sacred Tortoise, whose skill supports the world, keep far from us Nyang, the genius of evil! Deliver our enemies to us, and give us their scalps. Wacondah! Wacondah! Protect thy children!" "Wacondah! Wacondah! Protect thy children!" the warriors repeated. The Sachem then bowed to the sun, and then towards the contents of the calabash, saying-- "And thou, sublime star, visible representative of the omnipotent and invincible Creator, continue to pour thy vivifying heat on the hunting grounds of thy Red Sons, and intercede for them with the Master of life. May this clear water I offer thee be grateful. Wacondah! Wacondah! Protect thy children!"