Part 48 (1/2)

Desert life possesses, for the man whose heart is still open enough to comprehend its moving incidents, intoxicating delights which can only be experienced there, and which the mathematically ruled customs of towns cannot at all cause to be forgotten, if they have once been tasted.

According to the principles of Indian etiquette on matters of politeness, no question must be addressed to strangers who sit down at the camp-fire, until they are pleased to begin the conversation.

In an Indian's wigwam a guest is regarded as sent by the Great Spirit; he is sacred to the man he visits as long as he thinks proper to remain with him, even if he be his mortal enemy.

The Jaguar, thoroughly conversant with Redskin customs, remained silently by the side of his guests, smoking and thinking, and waiting patiently till they decided on speaking.

At length, after a considerable lapse of time, Tranquil shook the ashes from his pipe on his thumbnail, and turned to the young man.

”You did not expect me, I fancy?” he said.

”I did not,” the other answered; ”still be a.s.sured that the visit, though unexpected, is not less agreeable to me.”

The hunter curled his lip in a singular fas.h.i.+on.

”Who knows?” he muttered, answering his own thoughts rather than the Jaguar's remark; ”perhaps yes, perhaps no; man's heart is a mysterious and undecipherable book, in which only madmen fancy they can read.”

”It is not so with me, hunter, as you know from experience.”

The Canadian shook his head.

”You are still young; the heart to which you refer is still unknown to yourself; in the short period your existence has pa.s.sed through, the wind of pa.s.sion has not yet blown over you and bowed you down before its powerful impetus: wait, in order to reply with certainty, until you have loved and suffered; when you have bravely sustained the shock, and resisted the hurricane of youth, it will be time for you to speak.”

These words were uttered with a stern accent, but there was no bitterness about them.

”You are harsh to me, to-day, Tranquil,” the young: man answered sorrowfully; ”how have I sunk in your esteem? What reprehensible act have I done?”

”None--at any rate, it pleases me to believe so; but I fear that soon--”

He stopped and shook his head mournfully.

”Finish the sentence,” the young man quickly exclaimed.

”For what end?” he answered; ”Who am I that I should impose on you a line of conduct which you would probably despise, and advice which would prove unwelcome? It is better to be silent.”

”Tranquil!” the young man said, with an emotion he could not master, ”For a long time we have known each other, you are aware of the esteem and respect I hold you in, so speak; whatever you have to say, however rude your reproaches may be, I will listen to you, I swear it.”

”Nonsense; forget what I said to you; I was wrong to think of meddling in your affairs; on the prairie, a man should only think about himself, so let us say no more.”

The Jaguar gave him a long and profound glance. ”Be it so,” he answered; ”we will say no more about it.”

He rose and walked a few yards in agitation, then he brusquely returned to the hunter.

”Pardon me,” he said, ”for not having thought of offering you refreshment, but breakfast time has now arrived. I trust that your comrade and yourself will do me the honour of sharing my frugal meal.”

While speaking thus, the Jaguar bent on the Canadian a most meaning glance.

Tranquil hesitated for a second.

”This morning at sunrise,” he then said, ”my friend and myself ate, just before entering your camp.”