After these words, pronounced in a scarcely articulate voice, there was a funereal silence among these three men--a silence interrupted only by the dull rattle in the throat of the dying man, whose agony had begun. All at once the captain made a strong effort; he raised himself up, and fixing his bloodshot eyes upon the hunters, said,-- "The savages who attacked me belong to the nation of the Comanches; their chief is named Eagle Head; swear to avenge me like loyal hunters." "We swear to do so," the two men cried, in a firm tone. "Thanks," the captain murmured, and falling back he remained motionless. He was dead. His distorted features and his open eyes still preserved the expression of hatred and despair which had animated him to the last. The hunters surveyed him for an instant, and then, shaking off this painful impression, they set about the duty of paying the last honours to the remains of the unfortunate victims of Indian rage. By the last rays of the setting sun, they completed the melancholy task which they had imposed upon themselves. After a short rest, Loyal Heart arose, and saddling his horse, said,-- "Now, brother, let us place ourselves on the trail of Eagle Head." "Come on," the hunter replied. The two men cast around them a long and sad farewell glance, and whistling their dogs, they boldly entered the forest, in the depths of which the Comanches had disappeared. At this moment the moon arose amidst an ocean of vapour, and profusely scattered her melancholy beams upon the ruins of the American village, in which solitude and death were doomed to reign for ever. CHAPTER X. THE ENTRENCHED CAMP. We will leave the hunters following the track of the redskins, and return to the general. A few minutes after the two men had quitted the camp of the Mexicans, the general left his tent, and whilst casting an investigating look around him, and inhaling the fresh air of the morning, he began to walk about in a preoccupied manner. The events of the night had produced a lively impression upon the old soldier. For the first time, perhaps, since he had undertaken this expedition, he began to see it in its true light. He asked himself if he had really the right to associate with him in this life of continual perils and ambushes, a girl of the age of his niece, whose existence up to that time had been an uninterrupted series of mild and peaceful emotions; and who probably would not be able to accustom herself to the incessant dangers and agitations of a life in the prairies, which, in a short time, would break down the energies of the strongest minds.