at? Our children are like one another. Are not
yours the same? If the queen be your daughter, then the golden-haired
maiden is not. You cannot be the father of both. But no!" continued
the subtle savage, elevating his voice, "the queen is not your daughter.
She is of our race--a child of Montezuma--a queen of the Navajoes!"

"The queen must be returned to us!" exclaimed several braves; "she is
ours; we must have her!"

In vain Seguin reiterated his paternal claim. In vain he detailed the
time and circumstances of her capture by the Navajoes themselves. The
braves again cried out--

"She is our queen; we must have her!"

Seguin, in an eloquent speech, appealed to the feelings of the old
chief, whose daughter was in similar circumstances; but it was evident
that the latter lacked the power, if he had the will, to stay the storm
that was rising. The younger warriors answered with shouts of derision,
one of them crying out that "the white chief was raving."

They continued for some time to gesticulate, at intervals declaring
loudly that on no terms would they agree to an exchange unless the queen
were given up. It was evident that some mysterious tie bound them to
such extreme loyalty. Even the exchange of Dacoma was less desired by
them.

Their demands were urged in so insulting a manner that we felt satisfied
it was their intention, in the end, to bring us to a fight. The rifles,
so much dreaded by them, were absent; and they felt certain of obtaining
a victory over us.

The hunters were equally willing to be at it, and equally sure of a
conquest.

They only waited the signal from their leader.

A signal was given; but, to their surprise and chagrin, it was one of
peace!

Seguin, turning to them and looking down--for he was upon his feet--
cautioned them in a low voice to be patient and silent. Then covering
his eyes with his hand, he stood for some moments in an attitude of
meditation.

The hunters had full confidence in the talents as well as bravery of
their chief. They knew that he was devising some plan of action, and
they patiently awaited the result.

On the other side, the Indians showed no signs of impatience. They
cared not how much time was consumed, for they hoped that by this time
Dacoma's party would be on their trail. They sat still, exchanging
their thoughts in grunts and short phrases, while many of them filled up
the intervals with laughter. They felt quite easy, and seeme