And he let his horse go on, contenting himself with carefully examining the thick scrub he passed and the tall grass through which he rode with great difficulty, in order not to let himself be attacked unawares by an invisible foe. It was about nine in the morning, the hour most pleasant for travelling in these torrid latitudes. For about an hour the Canadian thus advanced haphazard, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past his ear. "Who is the clumsy scoundrel turning me into a target?" the hunter said, coolly, as he halted and looked around; "Devil take the animal for missing me so stupidly." A slight smoke, which rose a short distance off, from the grass, soon indicated to him the spot whence the shot was fired; without hesitation, he dug his spurs into his horse's flanks, and dashed in that direction, resolved to take a prompt revenge for this unfair attack. But almost immediately a hurried motion commenced in the tall grass; it parted under the pressure of a vigorous hand, and an Indian appeared. It was Running Water, holding in his hand the gun he had just used, the barrel of which was still smoking. "Hang it, chief," the Canadian said gaily, "it must be confessed that you have a strange way of putting your question." "My brother must pardon me; it is not my fault," the Indian answered. "That you missed me," the Canadian interrupted him laughingly. "By Jove, I am convinced of that, for the bullet almost passed through my hair." "My brother will not understand me. I did not recognize him. Had I done so, I should not have fired on the man to whom I owe my life." "Nonsense! On the prairie that is of no consequence, chief; but, excepting the rather rough way in which you bade me welcome, I am delighted at having met you." "My brother is now the friend of a chief; he is in safety on our hunting grounds." "So it seems," the adventurer replied mockingly. Running Water's face assumed an expression of sorrow. "My brother, then, will not pardon an unhappy mistake, at which he sees his friend broken-hearted." "Come, come, chief, let us say no more about it; there was more noise than hurt. I am glad to see you at liberty again, and, according to appearances, in good case. You have not taken long to procure weapons." "The chief is on his own territory," the Indian answered, with a flash of pride. "Very good, I admit that, although I fancy you venture rather close to the Spanish border." "I am not alone." "That is probable. I do not wish to know the motives that bring you to these parts; that is your business, although I suspect a hearty Indian revenge behind it." An evil smile played round the chief's thin lips. "Vengeance is the virtue of the red men," he answered in a hollow voice; "they never forget kindness and never pardon wrong." "I am aware of that, chief, and I cannot blame you, for every man acts according to his instincts." "Is my brother on the hunting trail?" "I am on no trail, chief, I am rambling about for amusement."