"I really do not know how to requite the devotion you display to a person who is a stranger to you, and who can inspire you with but very slight interest." "Are you not a man?" the Canadian replied. "That is enough for me. On the desert we are all brothers. You have a claim to my protection, as I have to yours. And besides, must I not defend my scalp." "Good, good," the count said with a smile, "the day may perhaps come for me to prove my gratitude to you." "Not a word about that, if you wish to cause me pleasure. And stay. Supper is ready, let us eat, for we must recruit our strength for the job which awaits us tonight." They rose and joined the soldiers who were seated round the fire and eating with good appetite. By this time the sun had descended behind the lofty mountains, and night was at hand; the cloudless sky was begemmed by an infinite number of stars which were reflected in the silvery mirror of the stream; the coming breeze soughed softly through the branches, bringing with it the penetrating odours of the plants and flowers. "Lie down, all of you," the Canadian said in a tone that admitted of no reply, "and sleep, so that you may be fresh for work when the hour arrives. I will keep watch for all, as your eyes would see nothing in the gloom." "I will watch with you," said the count, "I feel that it would be impossible for me to sleep." "Very good, señor." Both then stationed themselves in a natural embrasure formed by two rocks coming close together, and began their watch, during which the Canadian carefully surveyed the river bank. CHAPTER XIV. THE REDSKINS. In the meanwhile the night had become more and more gloomy; the wind had risen in the north-east, driving before it heavy grey clouds, which intercepted the moonbeams, and collected over the canyon. The count, obliged to keep silent, and worn out by the fatigue of a long ride, felt his eyelids involuntarily droop. At first he resisted the lethargy that assailed him; but, as he could not change his position, he soon found it impossible to carry on the struggle. His head fell on his chest, his eyes closed, he let his rifle fall, and went fast asleep. The adventurer gazed at him for a moment with an expression of pity mingled with pride. "A valiant soldier for all that," he muttered, "but incapable of withstanding the fatigue of a lengthened watch in the presence of the Indians; better for him to sleep in peace." Then, with an anxiety which had something filial in its rough kindness, he took off his thick zarapé, of Indian manufacture, and carefully wrapped him up, the speaker saying in a whisper-- "The dew is heavy at this season of the year, and the nights are cold."