of the fire, and,
after spending a few minutes in communion with the Great Spirit, he
passed outside the cavern, drank from the clear water in the brook, and
laved his face and hands.
Just as he finished, Fred Linden emerged, rubbing his eyes and yawning,
while Terry Clark was close behind him.
"Good morning, Deerfoot!" called the former; "it was just like you to
let us sleep all night while you kept watch: to-night you must let us
take our turn."
"Fred has exprissed me own sintimints," added Terry; "we have had so
much slumber that we can kaap awake for a month. Helloa!"
The gaze of the boys at that moment fell on the body of the wolf,
stiffened in death.
"You have had visitors," said Fred; "my gracious, but he's a big fellow!
Killed by a knife thrust too, that looks as if it had gone half way
through his body; how was it, Deerfoot?"
The Shawanoe waited until they had finished bathing their hands and
faces, and then he quietly told them the story, including the account of
the warrior's visit. As you may well suppose, the boys opened their
eyes, and Terry, running inside, brought out the blanket, which had been
folded in such a manner that the knife of the Winnebago passed through
three thicknesses of the cloth.
"And to think that we slept through it all!"
"Begorrah, but wasn't it lucky that we didn't have the blanket wrapped
about us?" gasped Terry, who was in earnest in his momentary belief of
the narrow escape of himself and companion.
"It is well that you kept guard last night; neither of us would have
heard the approach of the Winnebago; and wouldn't have known any thing
about the other wolf until he lit on our shoulders."
"My brother is mistaken," said Deerfoot; "he is like the rattlesnake; he
gives warning before he strikes; I heard him growl, and he stopped at
the entrance to the cavern, afraid of the fire."
"Why didn't you shoot him?"
"Would he have died more quietly, or with less pain than from the knife?
It is the knife that the Winnebago left; Deerfoot wanted to learn
whether it would serve him well."
"And I should think ye ought to be satisfied, as a cousin of me own once
remarked after working five years for a man without any pay excipt
starvation and kicks."
"The knife proved itself a good one," said Fred; "but the poorest knife
would be just as effective in your hands."
Deerfoot withdrew his own weapon from its skin sheath, and handed it to
Fred.
"Let my brother car
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