Still the Canadian did not let out of sight the motive which had urged him to enter the prairie; and while smoking, he thought over the means of quietly veering the conversation round to the point he desired, although he did not dare ask the chief any direct question, for he was aware of his craft. The pretext which the hunter vainly sought, Running Water very naturally supplied, in the following way. As usually happens between men accustomed to a desert life, the conversation gradually settled upon hunting, an always interesting and inexhaustible subject between Indians and wood rangers. "My brother knows that the moon of the wild oats will soon begin," said the chief, "and that it is the period when the buffalo chase is most productive." "I do," the Canadian replied. "Will my brother hunt the buffalo?" "I should like to do so, but unluckily I am very slightly acquainted with this country. The buffalo is an animal only found in herds, and a single man could not hunt it advantageously. My companions have left me, and I am alone, hence I shall be obliged to set traps during the coming season." "A poor trade for a brave man," the chief remarked. "You are right, but what can I do? No man can be expected to perform impossibilities. I regret more than I can tell you the loss of this season; but I am compelled to put up with it." "The Comanches are the first hunters of the prairie," the chief said with emphasis; "the tribe of the Red Buffaloes is renowned; their totem is a buffalo." "I have heard the skill and courage of the warriors of your tribe highly spoken of, chief." The sachem smiled proudly. "The buffaloes are our cousins," he said; "when we hunt them they know that it is because we have need of their meat and skins, and they allow us to capture them in order to do us a service." The Canadian gave a silent nod of assent. He was aware of the redskin superstition, which makes them believe that each of their tribes is descended from some animal, and he considered it unnecessary to open a discussion, which could have no satisfactory result, on the point. The chief continued-- "Why will not my brother the Sumach hunt in company with the Red Buffaloes?" The Canadian shook his head, although he felt great pleasure at this unexpected overture, for the Indians are very jealous of their hunting grounds, and the greatest proof of friendship they can give a man is to make him such an offer. "For several reasons, chief," he answered; "my ammunition is nearly exhausted, I must procure more, and the road is long to the first town where I can obtain good powder. Moreover, you seem to be travelling at this moment. Who knows whether I shall be able to find you on my return?" "Wah, my brother is a skilful paleface hunter; it is easy for him to follow a friend's trail." "Yes, if it is not old, and a fresh one has not crossed it." Running Water reflected for a moment, during which the Canadian anxiously awaited the result of his meditation.