The Comanche Chief bent his head, restored his enemy to liberty, and fell back a pace. With one bound Blue-fox sprang up; but, instead of attempting flight, he crossed his arms on his chest, resumed that mask of impenetrable stoicism which Indians so rarely doff, and waited. Tranquil regarded him for a moment with a singular expression, and then said--- "I was wrong just now, and my brother must pardon me. No, the memories of youth are not effaced like clouds which the wind bears away. When I saw the terrible danger that menaced Blue-fox, my heart was affected, and I remembered that we had been for a long time friends. I trembled to see his blood flow before me. Blue-fox is a great Chief, he must die as a warrior in the sunshine, he is free to rejoin his friends; he can go." The Chief raised his head. "On what conditions?" he said, drily. "On none. If the Apache warriors attack us, we will fight them; if not, we will continue our journey peacefully. The Chief must, decide, for events depend on his will." Tranquil, in acting as he had done, had furnished an evident proof of the profound knowledge he possessed of the character of the Redskins, among whom any heroic action is immediately appreciated at its full value. It was a dangerous game to play, but the situation of the hunters was desperate, despite their courage; if the fight had begun, they must have been naturally crushed by numbers, and pitilessly massacred. For the success of his plan the Canadian could only calculate on a good feeling on the part of Blue-fox, and he had staked his all. After carefully listening to Tranquil's remarks, Blue-fox remained silent for some minutes, during which a violent combat went on in his heart; he felt that he was the dupe of the snare into which he had tried to draw the hunter by reminding him of their old friendship; but the murmurs of admiration, which his warriors were unable to suppress, on seeing the Canadian's noble deed, warned him that he must dissimulate, and feign a gratitude which he was far from experiencing. The power of an Indian Chief is always very precarious; and he is often constrained, in spite of himself, to bow before the demands of his subordinates, if he does not wish to be overthrown and have a new Chief set up immediately in his place. Blue-fox, therefore, slowly drew his scalping knife from his belt, and let it fall at the hunter's feet. "The great White hunter and his brothers can continue to follow their path," he said; "the eyes of the Apache warriors are closed, they will not see them. The Palefaces can depart, they will find no one on their road till the second moon from this; but then they must take care; an Apache Chief will set himself on their trail, in order to ask back from them the knife he leaves them, and which he will require." The Canadian stooped down and picked up the knife, which he passed through his belt. "When Blue-fox asks me for it, he will find it there," he said, as he pointed to it.