In a few seconds he had the
satisfaction of undoing the bonds of his companions, and relating to
them the brief but interesting conversation which had just passed
between him and the Indian chief.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

At the edge of a small plain, or bit of prairie land, that shone like a
jewel in a setting of bush-clad hills, dwelt the tribe of natives who
owned Unaco as their chief.

It was a lovely spot, in one of the most secluded portions of the
Sawback range, far removed at that time from the evil presence of the
gold-diggers, though now and then an adventurous "prospector" would make
his way to these remote solitudes in quest of the precious metal. Up to
that time those prospectors had met with nothing to reward them for
their pains, save the gratification to be derived from fresh mountain
air and beautiful scenery.

It required three days of steady travelling to enable the chief and his
party to reach the wigwams of the tribe. The sun was just setting, on
the evening of the third day, when they passed out of a narrow defile
and came in sight of the Indian village.

"It seems to me, Paul," remarked Fred Westly, as they halted to take a
brief survey of the scene, "that these Indians have found an admirable
spot on which to lead a peaceful life, for the region is too high and
difficult of access to tempt many gold-hunters, and the approaches to it
could be easily defended by a handful of resolute men."

"That is true," replied Bevan, as they continued on their way.
"Nevertheless, it would not be very difficult for a few resolute men to
surprise and capture the place."

"Perchance Stalker and his villains may attempt to prove the truth of
what you say," suggested Fred.

"They will certainly attempt it" returned Paul, "but they are not what I
call resolute men. Scoundrels are seldom blessed wi' much resolution,
an' they're never heartily united."

"What makes you feel so sure that they will follow us up, Paul?"

"The fact that my enemy has followed me like a bloodhound for six
years," answered Bevan, with a frown.

"Is it touching too much on private matters to ask why he is your enemy,
and why so vindictive?"

"The reason Is simple enough. Buxley hates me, and would kill me if he
could. Indeed I'm half afraid that he will manage it at last, for I've
promised my little gal that I won't kill _him_ 'cept in self-defence,
an' of course if I don't kill him he's pretty sure to kill me."

"Does Be