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Whatever their peril, the end was likely to come before he could reach them. The sound of the turmoil borne to the war party in camp soon ceased, and a long silence followed. Two of them walked toward the river, and a third sauntered in another direction all apparently in pursuit of information. Deerfoot's eyes sparkled. Ah, if that third man had only been Lone Bear!
That he would not dally long enough to hunt out the more convenient crossing place was another illustration of Deerfoot's indifference to his own comfort. What though his garments were dripping when he stepped upon solid earth again, and the air was almost wintry in its chill, he cared naught. The exercise threw his frame into a glow and the moisture gradually left his clothing.
At any rate, the Sauk felt the necessity of keeping an eye on the hostiles. He motioned to the lad to stay where he was, retaining his own gun and Deerfoot's bow, while he looked after their enemies. Jack nodded his head, and the warrior moved away. From his position, prone on the earth, the youth was able to follow him with his eyes for some distance.
It was a critical situation, for the steed had already warned the Assiniboines that something unusual was going on, but the delight and gratitude of the Shawanoe were so deep that he could not deny himself the pleasure of caressing his steed. He touched his lips to his nose, patted his forehead and neck and murmured: "Whirlwind! Deerfoot's heart is thankful!
"My brother has journeyed far to visit the hunting grounds of his brothers, the Pawnees." The words of the warrior made known the fact that the party belonged to the Pawnee tribe, but the amazing feature of his remark was that it was made in Deerfoot's own tongue the Shawanoe. The youth turned like a flash the instant the first word fell upon his ear.
Having displayed the character of a battering ram, Deerfoot now assumed another. "The Sauk is afraid of Deerfoot; he dare not attack him until he stumbles; Deerfoot's heart was oppressed with pity when he saw the fear of Hay-uta, and he stumbled that it might give Hay-uta the courage the Great Spirit did not give him."
Suddenly the wrist which held the whistling blade was seized in the steel-like fingers of Deerfoot's left hand. The grip was fearful, for the Shawanoe had now called upon his last reserve of strength, and the wrist was as if encased in a coil of iron.
The youths answered that they could not very well look in the direction indicated by their friend, without seeing the stream to which he directed their attention. The Shawanoe placed himself so that he stood in front of the two. "Now," said he, "let my brothers follow Deerfoot's finger and tell me what they see."
"The Great Spirit made all people the white, the red, the black man, and him whose face is the color of the breast of Deerfoot's hunting shirtfor there are men whose skins are yellow, and others who are brown. He wishes them to live like brothers, but they do not.
I was of the opinion that it did not take any genius to make Deerfoot's ominous prophecy. Old man Hathaway gazed at Merritt on the bench as if he wished the manager could hear what he was calling him and then at his fellow-players as if both to warn and beseech them. Then he pitched the "rabbit." Crack! The big lumbering Canadian rapped the ball at Crab Bane.
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