ed
shots with the white explorers on the banks of the Mississippi. It is an
error to suppose that the American savage confines his wanderings to a
limited space. The majority do so, but, as I have said, the race
produces in its way its quota of venturesome explorers, who now and then
are encountered many hundreds of miles from home.

Within the preceding few weeks, Deerfoot had met two warriors among the
Ozark mountains, who, he saw at a glance, came from a long distance and
probably had never before been in that section. Neither they nor
Deerfoot could speak a word the other could understand, but the sign
language is universal among the North American Indians, and they were
soon conversing like a party of trained mutes.

To the amazement of the young Shawanoe, he learned they were on their
way to the Mississippi. They either would not or could not make clear
their errand, but Deerfoot suspected it was that of gaining a glimpse of
the civilization which as yet had not appeared in the West. Though the
strangers were somewhat shy and suspicious, they offered no harm to the
young Shawanoe, who, of course, showed only friendship toward them. From
them he gained not a little rude information of the marvelous region
which has since become familiar to the world.

The fear, therefore, of Deerfoot was that some wandering band from the
extreme West had captured the boys, and were at that very hour pushing
toward the Pacific with them. It would require a long, long time to
learn the truth, which, in all probability, would prove a bitter
disappointment.

From what has been said in this fragmentary manner, the reader may gain
an idea of the almost infinite difficulties by which Deerfoot was
confronted. Like a trained detective, however, he saw that much valuable
time had been lost and a start must be made without further delay; and,
furthermore, that the first step must be based on something tangible, or
it would come to naught. The element of chance plays a leading part in
such problems, and it may be questioned whether luck is not often a more
powerful helper than skill.

After leaving the settlement, Deerfoot naturally climbed to the nearest
elevation which gave a view of the surrounding country, and it was while
he was looking over the scene that his thoughts took the turn indicated
by the preceding part of this chapter.

It may be said that that for which he was searching was a starting
point. "Where shall I begin?" was