d him with such brilliancy, in higher esteem than any one
else in the world. He was silent, as if unable to express his feelings,
and the Shawanoe continued:

"Hay-uta has talked with the Great Spirit; he has listened to the words
of the kind Father who looks down from the moon behind the clouds; the
whisperings of the Great Spirit have been sweet in his ears; Hay-uta
could not speak with a double tongue, when he thinks of his goodness."

As the Sauk replied, he looked upward at the sky. The ragged cloud which
a moment before was passing across the face of the moon, glided off, and
the soft light shone full upon the coppery countenance that glowed with
a feeling, such as only a close communion with God stirs in the recesses
of the heart.

"Hay-uta has heard the voice of the Great Spirit," said the Sauk,
speaking in low tones, "but his words were whispers and Hay-uta did not
hear them all, and sometimes he could not hear aright."

This confession that the mists had not cleared from before the Sauk's
vision did not surprise Deerfoot, for his own gropings after light were
too distinct for him ever to forget the winding path over which he trod.

"The Great Spirit never sleeps," replied Deerfoot, in a voice almost as
low as his companion's; "he listens for the words of his children and
his ear is always open; he will hear Hay-uta, if he calls upon him and
speaks and acts so that when the Great Spirit looks down he will smile."

"Hay-uta will talk with the Great Spirit, so that the whispers which he
now hears shall become so loud that Hay-uta can not mistake them."

Deerfoot added a few words of encouragement, and then, having paused
long enough on the shore, they addressed themselves to the duty before
them.

This was simply to cross to the other side, so as to rejoin Jack
Carleton. As there was but the one means of passing over, it was idle to
hesitate. The Shawanoe stepped carefully a few paces, when the water
reached his armpits, and he began swimming. He did so, holding his bow
above the surface with one hand, so as to protect the string from
moisture. This was one of the disadvantages of that weapon, though the
rifle was not free from a similar inconvenience; but Hay-uta fastened it
to his back, so that the muzzle projected above his head and the water
could not run into the barrel. Sometimes he used a cork-like piece of
wood to keep the load from wetting, and again he took no precautions,
but drew the charge af