"We hunted all round, but could not find it."

"It was within reach of my brother's hands; it was covered with leaves."

"And so the boat is yer own?" repeated Terry; "why that looks as if ye
lived somewhere in this neighborhood; is such the case, owld boy?"

The question did not seem to please the Shawanoe. He was sitting
directly in front of his young friends, who looked earnestly in his
face. He made no answer to Terry's question, but continued looking among
the coals, as if he was pondering some other matter that had thus been
brought to mind. Fred shook his head at Terry as a warning that he
should not repeat his query, and the latter was wise enough not to do
so; but the friends concluded from that moment that the wandering young
Shawanoe made his home at no great distance from where all three were at
that moment sitting in the wilderness. And they were right.

A minute later, Deerfoot raised his head and signified that he wished to
know in turn what had befallen them since they parted company
twenty-four hours before. You will admit that each had a stirring story
to tell and he told it. The Shawanoe first listened to Terry's account
of his ride on the back of the wounded buffalo, and, when it was
finished, he quietly remarked to his young friend that he had done well.

Though he showed no emotion, it was clear to both boys that he felt the
most concern in the experience of Fred Linden. He said nothing until the
narrator was through, including the account of the cyclone. Deerfoot had
heard the noise made by the latter, but he was so far removed from its
path that he saw none of its fearful effects, and in fact cared little
about it, for he had seen the same thing more than once before.

But that which interested him was the account of Fred Linden's meeting
with the Winnebago horse thieves. This was the first knowledge he
received that any of their enemies were mounted on animals. Deerfoot had
turned off the main trail so early in the day that he missed them
altogether. When he came back to the path, near where the three were in
camp at that moment, and he examined the ground for signs of the
footprints of the boys, there were none that had been made by the hoofs
of horses. They had struck the trail further to the north, taking a
different course from the camp where they had stolen the animals.

Fred blushed under the warm compliments of Deerfoot on his coolness,
bravery and skill in the presence of the thre