"Does Tarou Niom know him? He is a mameluco; his name is Malco Diaz." "I have seen him," laconically said the chief, letting his head fall with a pensive air on his breast. There was a silence of some instants; it was the Guaycurus who broke it. "Has my brother ever seen," he said, "the jaguars make war upon each other?" "Never," replied the Payagoas chief. "Then why does the chief believe in the faith of this man? The Indian blood, if he has some drops of it, is so mingled in his veins with that of the whites and blacks, that it has lost all its vigour." "My brother speaks well, his words are just; only it is not on the good faith of this mameluco that I reckon." "On what then?" asked Tarou Niom. "On his hatred first, and then--" "Then?" "On his avarice." "Yes," replied the Guaycurus chief, "it is to these two feelings only that we must trust when we wish to ally ourselves with these faithless dogs; but this mameluco, is he not a Paulista?" "No; on the contrary, he is a sertanejo." "The whites are always bad. What guarantee has this Malco given?" "The best that I can desire; his son, whom he charged with bringing me the message, has come into my village with two black slaves. One has gone away again, but the other remains with the child." "Good!" answered Tarou Niom, "I acknowledge in this the prudence of my brother Emavidi-Chaime; if the father is a traitor, the child shall die." "He shall die!" Silence reigned again for a considerable time between the companions. The sun had completely disappeared, shadows covered the earth, darkness, as with a funeral pall, enveloped the forest in which these two men were. Already in the inexplorable depths of the desert low growlings began to reverberate, and announced the waking of the dread wanderers of the night. The slave, who was an Indian mundracus, on the order of his master, Tarou Niom, the captain of the Guaycurus--for the Indians of this nation have adopted the Portuguese titles--gathered some dry wood, formed a pile of it between the two chiefs, and set fire to it, so that its light might keep off the wild beasts. "It is very late," said the Guaycurus. "The journey to come here is long," laconically answered the Payagoas. "Has the mameluco explained for what reason he wished the meeting of his warriors and mine?" "No. Malco is prudent; a slave might betray the confidence of his master, and sell his secret to an enemy. The mameluco reserves it to inform us himself of the affair he wishes to propose to us." "Good!" answered the chief. "What matters this man to me? I have only come on the invitation of my brother. I know that he will not betray me." "I thank my brother, Tarou Niom, for his opinion of me; for a long time I have been devoted to him." At this moment a far-off noise was heard--slight, and almost inappreciable at first, but which approached rapidly. The two Indians listened for some seconds, and then exchanged a smile.