By its light the savage expression was strengthened on every countenance. Beards looked darker, and teeth gleamed whiter through them. Eyes appeared more sunken, and their glances more brilliant and fiend-like. Picturesque costumes met the eye: turbans, Spanish hats, plumes, and mottled garments; escopettes and rifles leaning against the trees; saddles, high-peaked, resting upon logs and stumps; bridles hanging from the branches overhead; strings of jerked meat drooping in festoons in front of the tents, and haunches of venison still smoking and dripping their half-coagulated drops! The vermilion smeared on the foreheads of the Indian warriors gleamed in the night light as though it were blood. It was a picture at once savage and warlike--warlike, but with an aspect of ferocity at which the sensitive heart drew back. It was a picture such as may be seen only in a bivouac of guerilleros, of brigands, of man-hunters. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. EL SOL AND LA LUNA. "Come," said Seguin, touching me on the arm, "our supper is ready; I see the doctor beckoning us." I was not slow to answer the call, for the cool air of the evening had sharpened my appetite. We approached the tent, in front of which was a fire. Over this, the doctor, assisted by Gode and a pueblo peon, was just giving the finishing touch to a savoury supper. Part of it had already been carried inside the tent. We followed it, and took our seats upon saddles, blankets, and packs. "Why, doctor," said Seguin, "you have proved yourself a perfect _maitre de cuisine_ to-night. This is a supper for a Lucullus." "Ach! mein captain, ich have goet help; Meinherr Gode assist me most wonderful." "Well, Mr Haller and I will do full justice to your dishes. Let us to them at once!" "Oui, oui! bien, Monsieur Capitaine," said Gode, hurrying in with a multitude of viands. The "Canadien" was always in his element when there was plenty to cook and eat. We were soon engaged on fresh steaks (of wild cows), roasted ribs of venison, dried buffalo tongues, tortillas, and coffee. The coffee and tortillas were the labours of the pueblo, in the preparation of which viands he was Gode's master. But Gode had a choice dish, _un petit morceau_, in reserve, which he brought forth with a triumphant flourish. "Voici, messieurs?" cried he, setting it before us. "What is it, Gode?" "Une fricassee, monsieur." "Of what?" "Les frog; what de Yankee call boo-frog!" "A fricassee of bull-frogs!" "Oui, oui, mon maitre. Voulez vous?" "No, thank you!" "I will trouble you, Monsieur Gode," said Seguin. "Ich, ich, mein Gode; frocks ver goot;" and the doctor held out his platter to be helped. Gode, in wandering by the river, had encountered a pond of giant frogs, and the fricassee was the result. I had not then overcome my national antipathy to the victims of Saint Patrick's curse; and, to the voyageur's astonishment, I refused to share the dainty.