The two hunters had been long known in the tribe of the Serpent; their reputation was established. Often at night, around their campfire, their exploits had struck with admiration the young men to whom the old warriors related them. The reconciliation was frank between Loyal Heart and Eagle Head; there did not remain between them the least trace of their past hatred. The heroism of the white hunter had conquered the animosity of the redskin warrior. The two men were chatting, peaceably seated at the entrance of a hut, when a great cry was heard, and an Indian, with his features distorted by terror, rushed into the camp. All crowded round this man to learn his news; but the Indian, perceiving Eagle Head, advanced towards him. "What is going on?" the chief asked. The Indian cast a ferocious look at Loyal Heart and Belhumeur, who had no more idea than the others of the cause of this panic. "Take care that these two palefaces do not escape; we are betrayed," he said, in a broken voice, panting from the speed with which he had come. "Let my brother explain himself more clearly," said Eagle Head. "All the white trappers, the long knives of the west, are assembled; they form a war detachment of near a hundred men; they are advancing and spreading themselves in such a manner, as to invest the camp on all sides at once." "Are you sure these hunters come as enemies?" said the chief again. "What else can they be?" the Indian warrior replied. "They are creeping like serpents through the high grass, with their guns before them, and their scalping knives in their teeth. Chief, we are betrayed; these men have been sent among us to lull our vigilance to sleep." Eagle Head and Loyal Heart exchanged a glance of an undefinable expression, and which was an enigma for all but themselves. The Comanche chief turned towards the Indian. "Did you see," he said, "who marched at the head of the hunters?" "Yes, I saw him." "Was it Amick (Black Elk), the principal guardian of Loyal Heart's traps?" "Who else could it be?" "Very well! Retire," said the warrior, dismissing the messenger with a nod of the head; then, addressing the hunter, he asked, "What is to be done?" "Nothing," Loyal Heart replied, "this concerns me, my brother must leave me to act alone." "My brother is master!" "I will go and meet these hunters; let Eagle Head keep his young men in the camp till my return." "That shall be done." Loyal Heart threw his gun upon his shoulder, gave Belhumeur a shake of the hand, and a smile to the Comanche chief, and then directed his course to the forest, at that pace, at once firm and easy, which was habitual to him. He soon disappeared among the trees. "Hum;" said Belhumeur, lighting his Indian pipe, and addressing Eagle Head, "you see, chief, that in this world, it is not often a bad speculation, to allow ourselves to be guided by our hearts."