laugh, for he well knew the reply
that would be made. The dark face of the Huron assumed an expression of
withering scorn as he answered:

"Oonamoo don't know _fear_--spit on Shawnee and Miami--he sleeps in
their hunting-grounds, and by their wigwams, but they don't touch him.
He scalp their warriors--all he meets, but Oonamoo never lose scalp."

"Don't be too sure of that; that proud top-knot of yours may be yanked
off yet, Mr. Oonamoo. Many a Shawnee would be proud to have that
hanging in his lodge."

"He never get him though," replied the Huron, with great readiness.

"I hope not, for I'd feel sorry to see such a good warrior as you go
under when he is needed so much. You ain't on a scout or hunt just now,
then?"

The savage shook his head from side to side as quick as lightning.

"Then you'll take a tramp with me?"

It now went up and down with the same celerity.

"To sum up then, Oonamoo, Lew, our leader, is in a bad scrape."

"Shawnee got him? Miami got him?"

"That's what I want to find out. Shouldn't be s'prised if both have
nabbed him."

"How get him?"

There was something curious in the eagerness with which the Huron asked
the questions. It was more noticeable from the fact that O'Hara spoke
slowly and deliberately, so that the short, broken sentences of the
savage seemed all the more short and broken.

"That I can't tell, Oonamoo," repeated the hunter, who, it will be
noticed, evinced the remarkable fact of being in a good temper with the
Indian. "You see, him and the gal----"

"Gal with him?" asked the savage, with amazing quickness.

"Yes; didn't I tell you that?"

"Bad--bad--gal make him blind--see notting, all time--she afore his
face."

"You've got the idea this time, Oonamoo. Lew's in love, above his head
and ears, and can't be to blame so much for what he's done," said
O'Hara, a gleam of pity stealing through his rough nature, like a ray
of sunshine entering a gloomy cave. "He's made a fool of himself, I'm
afeard, 'cause there's a female on his hands."

"What want to do? Foller him--catch him?"

"That's it. The first thing to be done is to find the trail."

"Where lost? Where see him last?"

O'Hara proceeded to relate as best he could what is already known to
the reader, or more properly that portion of it which was known to him.
He stated that he and Dick Allmat had lost the trail in a small brook,
and that their most persistent efforts had failed to recover it. Upon
specu