e to his home on the shores of Lake
George. Crow Wing did not go near the house when Enoch met his mother
and the younger Hardings after his long absence; but he sat down to
dinner with them and if he used his fingers oftener than his hunting
knife to prepare his food it was not remarked, for forks were not always
used by the settlers themselves at that day. His gravity awed the
younger children, while Bryce admired his proportions openly. The Indian
youth was certainly a magnificently built fellow.

Before he went away he sat beside the creek and silently smoked a
farewell pipe while his white friend waited for his last words. Enoch
believed Crow Wing had something to tell him regarding Simon Halpen and
that the time for speech had come; but knowing his nature the white
youth had not tried to hurry this confidence.

"Hawknose come here once more--what you do?" Crow Wing asked, when the
pipe was finished.

"Simon Halpen is my enemy. If you have an enemy what do you do?"
returned Enoch, with some emotion.

The Indian nodded. "Hawknose, Jonas Harding's enemy. No deer kill Jonas
Harding. Hawknose yonder then," and he waved his hand toward the
deer-lick at which the dead settler had been found three years before.

"How does Crow Wing know that?" queried the white boy, eagerly.

"Crow Wing there, too."

"You saw him----" began Enoch, but the Indian cut him short with an
emphatic "Umph! No see. Hear shot. Shot kill doe. Jonas Harding kill
doe. Gun empty."

"Yes, we found the gun and the dead doe. And there were marks of a big
buck all about the place and father--was dead."

"Hawknose there," said the Indian, gravely. "Crow Wing see him--running.
Pass him--so," with a gesture which led Enoch to believe that the
running Halpen had crossed the Indian's path within a few feet. "He no
see Crow Wing. He run fast--look back over shoulder. And blood--blood on
shirt--blood on hands--blood on gun! Go wash 'em in river. Then run
more."

"You saw him running away from the lick?" gasped Enoch. "But there were
no footprints but father's near the place. Only the hoof prints of the
big buck."

"Umph! Crow Wing no see big deer; no hear 'um. But see Hawknose run,"
said the Indian significantly.

"But I can't understand how Halpen could have killed him, Crow Wing. He
did not shoot him, and if he had been near enough to strike father down,
why did his moccasins leave no mark?"

The Indian rose gravely. "Some time we see. Crow Wi