Thus, whites, Indians, or half-breeds, when they meet in the prairies, salute each other with eye on the watch, ears open, and the finger on the trigger of the rifle. At this cry of a man, the general and the lanceros, at all hazards, prepared against a sudden attack by cocking their guns, and concealing themselves as much as possible behind the bushes. At fifty paces before them stood an individual, who, the butt on the ground, and his two hands leaning on the barrel of a long rifle, was observing them attentively. He was a man of lofty stature, with energetic features and a frank, determined look. His long hair, arranged with care, was plaited, mingled with otter skins and ribbons of various colours. A hunting blouse of ornamented leather fell to his knees; gaiters of a singular cut, ornamented with strings, fringes, and a profusion of little bells covered his legs; his shoes consisted of a pair of superb moccasins, embroidered with false pearls. A scarlet blanket hung from his shoulders, and was fastened round his middle by a red belt, through which were passed two pistols, a knife, and an Indian pipe. His rifle was profusely decorated with vermilion and little copper nails. At a few paces from him his horse was browsing on the mast of the trees. Like its master, it was equipped in the most fantastic manner, spotted and striped with vermilion, the reins and crupper ornamented with beads and bunches of ribbon, while its head, mane, and tail, were abundantly decorated with eagle's feathers floating in the wind. At sight of this personage the general could not restrain a cry of surprise. "To what Indian tribe does this man belong?" he asked the guide. "To none," the latter replied. "How, to none?" "No; he is a white trapper." "And so dressed?" The guide shrugged his shoulders. "We are in the prairies;" he said. "That is true," the general murmured. In the meantime, the individual we have described, tired, no doubt, of the hesitation of the little party before him, and wishing to know what their disposition was, resolutely accosted them. "Eh! eh!" he said in English, "Who the devil are you--and what are you seeking here?" "_Caramba!_" the general replied, throwing his gun behind him, and ordering his people to do the same; "we are travellers, fatigued with a long journey; the sun is hot, and we ask permission to rest a short time in your rancho." These words being spoken in Spanish, the trapper replied in the same language,-- "Approach without fear; Black Elk is a good sort of fellow when people do not seek to thwart him; you shall share the little he possesses, and much good may it do you." At the name of Black Elk the guide could not repress a movement of terror; he wished even to say a few words, but he had not time, for the hunter, throwing his gun upon his shoulder, and leaping into his saddle with a bound, advanced towards the Mexicans.