d
the end of the arrow against the string, between the thumb and
forefinger. His body was erect and well-balanced, the head thrust a
little forward, the left eye closed, and the right ranging along the
line of the arrow as though it were the barrel of his rifle.

Slowly he drew back the string until his right hand was beside his
cheek. He had seen Deerfoot many a time hold his right arm rigid, while
the other pulled the string back of his head, but Hay-uta was surprised
to find the tension so great that he could not draw it another inch.
Holding it thus a second or two, he let fly.

CHAPTER XX.

UNCONGENIAL NEIGHBORS.

Jack Carleton fixed his eyes on his cap, wondering how near the Sank
could come to it. Feeling some misgiving, he took several more steps
backward, until he was fully five yards from the pendant headgear.

_Twang_ went the bow-string, and the next instant something flashed so
close to the eyes of the youth that he winked and flirted his head
backward. The arrow had missed his nose by less than an inch!

"Well, that's the greatest shooting I ever saw!" exclaimed Jack, when he
turned and saw where the missile, after clipping some leaves near at
hand, had fallen to the ground. "Hold on!" he called, with a gesture
which the Sauk understood, "if you are going to try it again, aim at
_me_; then I'll be safe."

Hay-uta was as much astonished as he--so much so, indeed, that he stood
staring, neither smiling nor making any move to launch another shaft.
Jack ran and picked up the arrow that had been discharged, for the
quiver was not full and Deerfoot had none to throw away.

When the youth rejoined the warrior, the latter handed him the bow, as
though glad to be relieved of it, but seeing he had done no harm, he
made a successful attempt to grin.

"Hay-uta, you are not to be blamed because you ain't half as handsome
nor smart as other folks; it is no fault of yours if nature made you a
fool; you are entitled to pity; but if you want to learn something about
handling a bow just study _my_ style."

The reason Jack Carleton talked in this fashion was because he knew the
one whom he addressed could not understand a word of what was said.
Nevertheless, Hay-uta looked upon his actions with interest; for,
feeling assured that the shot could not be as bad as his, the chances
were that it would be much better.

Conscious of what was expected of him, the young Kentuckian (who could
not repress a smile