"You will soon have the opportunity. It is now five o'clock. In a few minutes he will be here." "What, after making an appointment so long ago, you expect him to keep it to the minute!" "Yes; it is the politeness of the desert, from which nothing absolves but death." "A summary excuse, truly," said Oliver. "Listen," cried Bright-eye. Oliver listened, and distinctly heard in the distance the trampling of a horse, which suddenly ceased, to be followed by the cry of the goshawk. Bright-eye responded with a similar cry, and with such perfection that the Frenchman mechanically raised his head in search of the bird. Then the sound of a horse galloping recommenced, the bushes parted violently, and a horseman bounded into the clearing, checking his steed so artistically that next moment he stood like a centaur rooted to the ground. The rider was very much as Bright-eye had described him. There was about him, moreover, an air of grandeur, a majesty which inspired respect without repelling sympathy. One glance sufficed to fix him as a man of superior nature. It was the first time Oliver, since his journey on the prairies, had seen an Indian so near, and under such favourable circumstances. He at once formed a friendly opinion of him. The chief bowed, and then pointed to the sun gilding the summits of the trees. "It is five o'clock. Here is Numank-Charake." "I say welcome, chief. I know your extreme punctuality. Supper is ready." "Good," said the chief, alighting from his horse with one bound. Bright-eye then placed his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Let my brother listen. The hunter is my friend." "Numank-Charake has read it in the eyes of Bright-eye," replied the Indian, turning to Oliver; "I put my hand on my heart, what will my brother give me in return?" "My hand and my heart; that is," he added, with a smile, "all that is not Bright-eye's." "I accept my share; henceforth we are three in one, one in three. Numank-Charake was once the Bounding Panther. Let that name be the name of my brother." They shook hands. All was done. According to the customs of the country they were brothers, and held everything in common. Almost on the threshold of his desert life, Oliver found himself associated with two men noted as the most honest and doughty champions of the prairie. CHAPTER V. A GREAT MEDICINE COUNCIL. For some time the three men, of such different birth, race, and manners, remained silent. It was a solemn moment. Their meeting appeared to them providential. Above all was the young Frenchman absorbed in his reflections. Alone an hour or two ago, he was now one of a formidable trio. All the time the Canadian went on with his cooking, while the chief gave fodder to the horses. "Supper is ready," suddenly cried Bright-eye, laughing, "let us eat." And all three seated themselves around a magnificent roast leg of venison _à la boucanière._