ough to turn back and join
the assailants. Thus the Shawanoe was forced to defend himself against
three, every one of whom was a good thrower. Right bravely did the
dusky youth do his work--never yielding an inch, but driving his
missiles right and left, with the merciless accuracy and the power of
an arrow from his bow, or a bullet from his rifle. So lightning-like
were his throws that neither the man nor the boys were able to dodge
them, unless they widened the space between themselves and their
master. Deerfoot's last missile cracked like a pistol when the ball
impinged against the side of Mul-tal-la's head, and the latter gave up
the contest.

This left only the boys. The Shawanoe hastily fashioned a couple of
balls, and with one in either hand started for the brothers, who called
out, "Enough!" and flung their own ammunition to the ground in token of
surrender. He looked from one to the other and said:

"Let us not stop; Deerfoot is beginning to like it."

"That's the trouble," replied George; "you like it too much; I don't
want any more; maybe Victor does."

"I'll do my own talking," replied the latter; "didn't you see me throw
down my snowball? What do you 'spose I did that for?"

"Didn't you throw it at Deerfoot?" asked the Shawanoe. "The shot came
as near hitting him as some of those you threw."

"We'll take up the fight again some time," was the vague promise of
Victor, panting from his exertion.

"Deerfoot hopes you will do so."

But the good-natured contest was never renewed. Not again could the
lads expect to have such a golden opportunity, and their defeat was so
decisive that they knew better than to repeat it.

The labor of the return grew heavier as they progressed, and the time
came when it was so hard to make headway against the powerful current
that the effort was given up. The last few miles became a real portage,
though when our friends were descending the river the passage could not
have been easier.

And so in due time the four reached the Nez Perce village, where they
had left their horses and some of their property. Henceforth the
journey to the Blackfoot country was to be made by land. The former
task had proved one of the severest of their lives, and glad indeed
were all when it was over.

CHAPTER II.

LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN.

You have already learned something of the Nez Perces, who in our times
have produced one of the greatest Indian leaders of the past century.