three still pushing westward, which was opposite the
course that would have been taken to reach the camp-fire. The highly
trained senses of the young Shawanoe could hear and see nothing to show
that his enemies were near at hand.

Every minute now lessened the danger, for only a little more obscurity
was required to prevent the keenest eyes of an American Indian from
detecting the footprints in the forest. He concluded that, from some
cause or other, the Pawnees had given over the pursuit.

So soon as Deerfoot was convinced on this point, he hastened to overtake
Hay-uta, who was walking almost on the heels of the captive. The latter
was not lacking in a certain dignity. He did not shamble along, as
though his courage had been driven from his body. He walked erect, with
head high, scarcely deigning to bend it to avoid an occasional
interfering limb. He preferred to flank rather than stoop to such an
obstruction. His carriage was so proud indeed that it looked as if he
were a conqueror, with his two slaves walking behind him. Not once did
he look about, or act as though he suspected the presence of friend or
foe.

This curious procession lasted until the three were nearly a half mile
from camp. By that time, night was closing in, and the gloom was such
that Deerfoot was persuaded he need give no further thought to the
Pawnee war party.

Hay-uta had acted the part of conductor, without much thought as to the
course they were taking. Swerving to the right, they were soon beyond
sight of the open space, and for a while the march was through the
trackless forest; but, while the red men deviated very little from the
path, the river, like all streams, took a winding course, and, just at
the moment that Deerfoot joined the Sauk, the three debouched from the
woods and (inasmuch as the open space had dwindled to a mere ribbon)
found themselves close to the edge of the stream. There of necessity
they halted.

The Pawnee now glanced over his shoulder and stopped, as if waiting for
some command. Receiving none he started along the stream, but was
checked by a word from Deerfoot, whose gesture explained what he meant.
The warrior paused, and folding his arms confronted them with the same
calm defiance as before.

There was something in his demeanor that compelled the admiration of his
captors. It proved that whatever the Pawnee might be, he was not a
coward, and it recalled to the young Shawanoe, the days when he wandered
thro