ry that, for the hour may come sooner than he thinks
when it will be of use to him."

Fred accepted it gratefully, saying, as he managed to find place for it
somewhat after the manner of Deerfoot:

"If I can handle it with half of your skill, it will serve me well
indeed, but that can never be."

Deerfoot placed the larger weapon within the sheath from which he had
withdrawn his own and made no reply to the compliments of his friends.
He had heard many such before, but he placed no value upon them. He
regarded himself as simply trying to use in the best way the gifts of
the Great Spirit. His many escapes from death and injury were due solely
to God's protecting care, and he could never take to himself any credit
for what he did.

The excitement of the boys having subsided, the three sat down in front
of the cavern to eat their breakfast. Enough of the food brought by Fred
was left to give each and all the meal needed, but when they were
through, not a particle was left; henceforth they must depend upon what
their rifles brought them for support while on the way to the camp in
the Ozarks.

"We have two or three days' travel yet before we can reach camp," said
Fred, while they were making ready to resume their journey; "but I don't
think we shall want for food. What troubles me the most is that scamp of
a Winnebago. You have spared him twice, but I don't believe it will
make a friend of him."

"He was so boilin' mad," added Terry, "because he lost his gun that now
that he has also lost his knife he may get so much madder that he'll
flop over and become pleased again."

This, however, was a kind of philosophy to which the others could not
agree. Deerfoot owned that he was in doubt; the sentiment of gratitude
is not one of the chief virtues of the American race, though many
story-tellers would have us believe that it is. There have been
instances known where a red man has shown something of the kind, but as
a rule they have no more of it than had the frozen serpent that was
warmed in the bosom of him who proved his foolishness by making the
experiment.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE CAMP OF THE WINNEBAGOS.

Now that the little party had started once more toward the camp in the
Ozark Mountains, they moved at a brisk pace. It took them but a short
time to reach the main trail, where there was a short pause while
Deerfoot made what may be called a microscopic scrutiny of the ground.

The result did not please him, f