him to discover some movement in his field of vision even though his
gaze still rested on the ground. He stopped as if on the edge of a
precipice, and looking up, saw a pale-face holding a formidable bow,
with the arrow pointing at his breast.

This particular Pawnee was Red Wolf, who had been driven almost out of
his senses when Deerfoot launched the shafts at him and Lone Bear, as
they sat by the deserted fire. The figure on which he gazed was not the
terrible Shawanoe, but the bow and the arm which slowly drew back the
string and arrow were more than enough. He whirled like a flash and was
off, bounding from right to left, as do the Digger Indians of the west
when seeking to disconcert the aim of an enemy.

"Confound you!" muttered, the archer, "since you are so afraid, I'll
give you cause to be; I'll bury this arrow in your back, so that you may
take it home in place of the scalp."

_Whiz!_ went the shaft, with all the power he could throw into his arm,
and with the best possible aim. It is enough to say that it did not come
within ten feet of hitting the fugitive.

The incident showed that it would not be safe for the lad to stay where
he was for another minute. Without stopping to consider the
consequences, he shoved off the canoe, stepped into it, and, seizing the
paddle, began guiding it down the stream. As he did so, he kept it as
close as he could to the shore, where the likelihood of discovery was
much less than further out in the stream.

Meanwhile, Red Wolf awoke to the fact that he owned a good voice, and
that one of the enemies for whom he and the rest of the Pawnees were
hunting, was much nearer than was supposed. He emitted a screeching
yell, enough to startle all who heard it, and, looking around and seeing
nothing of the white archer, he stopped and again signaled for the rest
to hasten while it was yet time.

The echoes were heard lingering among the arches of the woods, when a
footfall fell on his ear. Turning his head, he observed another warrior,
but the first glimpse revealed the startling fact that he belonged to a
tribe not only different from that of the Shawanoe, but from the
Pawnees. There could be no mistake as to his sentiments, for the moment
he discerned Red Wolf, he brought his gun to his shoulder The Pawnee
made an attempt to leap behind the nearest tree, but before he could do
so, Hay-uta, the Sauk, pulled the trigger. There was no miss _that_
time: the career of Red Wolf ended