ould see the water glimmering far away to the south over the tops of
the red Indian willows. Without pausing for an instant, the Indians
pushed their way through the thicket, their moccasins sinking deeply in
the spongy ground between the willow roots. Then they pulled out a
slender canoe of birch-bark concealed among the reeds.

Dusty Star had never seen a canoe before. It struck him with
astonishment; and when his captors forced him to get in, and he found
himself floating on the water, his astonishment was mingled with fear,
especially when, urged by the vigorous strokes of the Indian paddles,
the canoe shot out into the open. Once out upon the lake he was utterly
amazed. Prairie-bred, he had never imagined it possible that so much
water could exist. And it was deep, very deep! When you looked down, you
could not see any bottom. And the thin sides of the canoe seemed a poor
protection from the rippling vastness of that inland sea. The waves
struck the bows with a husky noise. Dusty Star dreaded that at any
moment, the canoe might be engulfed. Already the willow-thicket where
they had embarked seemed a long distance away. A feeling of despair took
hold of him. The thicket was the last place where Kiopo could find the
trail; for, as Dusty Star knew too well, all trails die out upon the
running watery smell.

When at last the Indians reached the end of their journey, Dusty Star
found himself in a large camp near a stream which flowed into the river
down which they had come from the lake.

Their arrival caused a great deal of excitement among the inhabitants,
who came crowding round to examine the captive. It was evident to Dusty
Star that they had already received the news of Kiopo's attack upon the
Indian who had jumped the gorge. As he looked at the hostile faces
crowded about him, as if he were some strange wild animal, his heart
sank. In spite of his youth, he knew only too well what Indian vengeance
meant. After he had been sufficiently examined, the deer-skin thong with
which he was bound was fastened to one of the lodge-poles, and he knew
that, unless a miracle happened, he was a prisoner whose chance of
escape was small indeed.

When night came on, he was ordered to enter the lodge, which he found he
was to share with Double Runner, and another Indian; and, after they
were all inside, the door-flap was securely fastened.

Notwithstanding his long journey and the anxiety of the last few days,
he found it dif