k, who spurns that God?"

The reply was a noble one. Dropping his insulting tones and manner,
Deerfoot said:

"The Shawanoe knows not whether the God he worships will save him; he
never cares nor thinks of _that_. He knows that whatever his Father
chooses to do _is right_, and if He does not wish to take care of the
Shawanoe, it _is right_. He will go to heaven, the abode of those who
obey God, when he is called. He will be ready, whether he hears that
call in the gloom of the woods at midnight or on the plain when the sun
is high in the sky.

"The Blackfoot worships false gods. Let him learn whether they will
help him when he stands in front of the Shawanoe."

The self-confidence of the chief was absolute. Wearied of listening to
the taunts of the dusky Apollo, he strode toward him, raising his right
hand as he did so, feinted once and then brought down the weapon with a
vicious vigor that was meant to bury the point in the shoulder of
Deerfoot.

The blade, however, swished through air, and the youth smote the chief
squarely in the mouth with the back of his fist. He could have used his
knife, but he chose to play awhile with this boaster. He delivered his
blow so quickly that the Blackfoot, accustomed as he was to fierce
hand-to-hand fighting, had no time to dodge or parry, and the next
instant the Shawanoe was ten feet away, weapon still grasped, and
grinning at the slightly dazed chief.

"Why does not the Blackfoot squaw strike the Shawanoe? The Shawanoe has
struck _him_. Cannot the Blackfoot see where to strike with his knife?
He is as slow as an aged woman, but he fears the Shawanoe, who is his
master."

Taggarak could not believe his failure was anything more than one of
those accidents to which the most skilful fighter is sometimes liable.
His weapon was still firm in his hand, and he moved forward again,
taking shorter and more stealthy steps. He crouched as if gathering his
muscles for a leap, while the Shawanoe contemptuously watched him,
alert and observant as a cat.

Six feet away the chief halted. Deerfoot did not stir. Taggarak had
learned of the lightning-like quickness of the youth, but felt none the
less certain of speedily overcoming him.

For a full minute the two glared at each other, neither speaking, but
the same aggravating, scornful smile was on the face of the young
Shawanoe. Suddenly he did an astounding thing. He tossed his knife
several feet up in the air, caught it by the handle