"Ah, ah," the old man said, "then you wish your friends to surprise us?" "Quite right. In that way the recognition will be effected without striking a blow. And stay! If I am not mistaken, we are about to receive visitors." At this moment the branches of a neighbouring thicket were roughly parted and several men rushed into the camp, with the machete in one hand, the rifle in the other. CHAPTER XI. THE PIRATES OF THE PRAIRIES. The White Scalper gave an imperceptible start at the unexpected apparition of the strangers; but he had sufficient power over himself apparently to preserve that coolness and stoicism which the Redskins and wood rangers make a point of honour. He did not alter the careless attitude he was in, and though he appeared to look at the newcomers absently, he, however, examined them attentively. They were at least twenty in number, for they had risen from all sides at once, and in a twinkling surrounded the travellers. These men, mostly clad in the trapper's hunting shirt and fox skin cap, had a vigorous appearance, and a ferocious look, not at all adapted to inspire confidence; moreover, they were armed to the teeth, not only having the rifle and machete, but also the scalping knife and tomahawk employed by the Indians. The man who appeared to be their Chief was at the most thirty-five years of age, tall, well-built and proportioned; his wide forehead, black eyes, Grecian nose, and large mouth, made up a face pleasing at the first glance, though on examining it more closely, you soon perceived that his glance was false, and that a sardonic smile constantly played round his thin and pale lips. His face was framed in by thick black curls, which fell in disorder on his shoulders and mixed with a large beard, which the fatigues of a wandering and adventurous life were beginning to silver at places. The four Texan adventurers had not made a move; the Chief of the strangers looked at them for a moment with his hands crossed on his rifle barrel, the butt of which rested on the ground. At length, by a movement that was familiar to him, he threw back his curls, and addressed Ruperto-- "Halloh, gossip," he said, "you here? What has brought you into our parts?" "A wish to see you, gossip," the other answered, as he carelessly struck a light for the cigarette he had just finished rolling. "Nonsense! Only that?" the stranger continued. "What other motive could I have, Master Sandoval?"[1] "Who knows?" the other said with a shake of his head; "Life has such strange changes." "This time you are mistaken. Nothing disagreeable forces me to pay you a visit." "That is more and more extraordinary. Then, you have come on your own accord, nothing compelling you to do so?" "I do not say that, for my visit necessarily has a motive. Still, it is not at all of the nature you suppose." "Canarios! I am glad to see that I am not so far from the truth as it appeared at first." "All the better!"