a goodly distance. As he
dropped on his feet, Deerfoot darted under his belly and repeated the
blow from the other side. The white teeth of the steed snapped within a
few inches of the shoulder of the youth, who slapped the nose before it
could be withdrawn.

Whirlwind wheeled to face his master, who landed lightly on his back
and pounded his sides with his heels. The contest recalled that other
struggle between the two, months before on the prairie, when it was a
battle royal indeed. But the great difference lay in the fact that the
present one was good-natured on both sides, and it is easy to believe
that the stallion wished the youth to prove himself once again his
master. An intelligent animal loves to obey him who has proved his
superiority.

There is no telling all that was done by the Shawanoe. He sharply
pinched the glossy hide. He griped the nostrils of the steed as if to
shut off his breath, but was too considerate to continue this long,
since the horse seems unable to breathe through his mouth. He placed
his hand and forearm over the eyes of Whirlwind as if he meant to play
blind-man's buff with him. He yanked the forelock and reproached him as
being of no account.

The stallion did his part in the way of defense and retaliation, but he
was continually handicapped by his dread of hurting his master. And yet
it would seem that, recalling that other conflict, he ought to have had
no such apprehension, for he had done his best on that occasion to kill
the Indian youth, who was not harmed at all, and overcame the creature
that possessed ten times his strength.

Whirlwind showed signs of fatigue before Deerfoot did. A comparatively
clear path stretched in front. Dropping from the back of the horse, the
Shawanoe challenged him to a race. Bounding off at his highest bent,
the youth dashed across the country with the speed of the wind. He ran
as he did when on the second half of his race with Ralph Genther.

Ah, Whirlwind had him now! No danger of hurting his audacious master,
except so far as his feelings were concerned, and the stallion did not
spare them. Despite the favorable ground, more than one boulder or
bunch of matted undergrowth had to be leaped, and the two went over
them like a couple of flying birds. But the steed steadily drew away
from the fleet Shawanoe, who at the end of two or three hundred yards,
finding himself hopelessly to the rear, gave up.

"Deerfoot is only a child when he races with