uld not sleep. He had cut off and hung up near the camp a
haunch of the venison to take back with him in the morning. They had
removed so far from the lick that certain preying beasts dared quarrel
over the remains of the noble buck until daylight; but the youth sat
with his back against a tree and his rifle across his knees until the
dimpling water of the creek was kissed by the first beams of the sun
which shot over the distant range of hills. His thoughts were sufficient
to keep him wide awake.

Enoch was not the first to stir; but Crow Wing, possessing the hunter's
faculty of awaking at any desired hour, sat up and threw back his
blanket. "My brother did not sleep," he said, looking upon the white
youth with gloomy brow.

"No; I couldn't do that, Crow Wing," Enoch returned, sadly.

The Indian got upon his feet, threw wood upon the fire, and prepared to
cook the deer meat he had reserved. They ate in silence as they had the
night before. Never had young Harding seen the redskin act so strangely,
for during the winter Crow Wing had spent with Enoch and Lot on the
Otter, he had by no means been silent or morose. The white youth could
not fail to see that something--something beside what troubled
Enoch--bore heavily upon Crow Wing's mind.

After eating the Indian scattered and covered the embers of the fire and
prepared to leave the spot. He went toward the lick where the deer had
been torn to pieces by the prowling animals Enoch had heard. At the edge
of the clearing he halted and attracted his companion's attention by a
commanding gesture. "Harding's father found here by the tall white man,"
he said, simply.

"Yes. 'Siah Bolderwood found him," Enoch sadly admitted.

"Then we look--see how Hawknose kill him."

"But Crow Wing, it was four years ago----"

The Indian stopped him with a gesture of disdain. "Does my brother think
we look for trail? No, no! The white man not find trail?"

"Of course not. There were only marks of the buck's hoofs."

Crow Wing pointed to the spoor of the dead buck made the night before.
"Trail big as that?" he asked.

"Yes. It might have been this buck."

"No buck," declared the other, emphatically and then began to move about
the open glade, examining each tree trunk as he went. Enoch did not
understand his actions but he followed him. The Indian gazed upon each
tree scrutinizingly, and no knothole in the rough boles escaped his
attention.

When the tree proved to be hollow at