man here present who could make you that promise."
King George's Commissioner had dismounted while Gilyan was speaking. He turned towards the hunter, his silver snuff box delicately balanced in his left hand.
"And that man?" he asked eagerly.
Gilyan nodded towards the tall Indian sitting erect and impassive on his claybank pony.
"Corane's town lies in the valley in the shadow of Koe Ishto's mountain. Corane knows Koe Ishto's ways and can lead us to his lair. Corane the Raven must hunt with us or we shall fail."
For a moment Twining hesitated. Then, swallowing his pride, he turned with an engaging smile to Moytoy's war captain.
"What say you, my brother?" he asked suavely. "Wilt lead us to the den of the great cat of the mountain—this Koe Ishto of the spotted face, concerning whom Gilyan has told me many tales?"
For a long half-minute Corane the Raven, gazing straight ahead of him, his clear cut countenance as stern as that of a bronze image, remained silent. Twining's brows drew together in a frown; the blood mounted to his pale, handsome face. At last the Indian turned his head slowly and looked at Gilyan—a look which seemed at once to convey a challenge and ask a question.
