"There is food in plenty; we can wait our chance." "Ay, you have grace of this day in which to make ready," his wrinkled face lighting maliciously.

"When yonder moon becomes round it will be the night of sacrifice.

Know you what will happen then ?" he licked his thin lips greedily.

"I may not be here to see, but it will be the same.

Up that path of rocks will swarm all of my race, and what then can save you from the altar?
How they will welcome the victims waiting their pleasure--white-faced _Francais_." His old, deeply sunken eyes gleamed so with hatred, I drew involuntarily back, my blood chilled with a conviction that he did not lie.
"Here?
Do you tell me the tribe comes here ?" "Ay, here, _Francais_,--here to make sacrifice of blood, that they may go forth once more, and conquer the land of their fathers." "'T is your custom to kill slaves ?" "When there be none better, but now we have other victims sent us by the Sun, all _Francais_, and you two cooped up here to be added to the others.