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Updated: July 17, 2025
Deerfoot could conjure up no strategy which, when launched against a party of Indians, would produce the desired effect upon a single member, leaving the others unaware of what was going on. He had asked the Great Spirit to open the way, and he was prepared to wait, with the stoical patience of his race, for the "moving of the waters".
It seemed to him that the Assiniboine horsemen must be journeying in that direction, and the negative motion of the other's head might indicate that he did not catch the drift of the question. Deerfoot now pointed toward the rising sun, only to be answered by another shake of his head. He next indicated the northeast. The dwarf nodded vigorously several times.
If the Assiniboines placed a sentinel on duty, Deerfoot was confident he could get the better of him in the darkness. The raiders would not be looking for any attack, though when on the war trail they were sure to adopt the usual precautions. The Shawanoe, therefore, had not gone far when he decided upon his plan of action.
Deerfoot Browning was leading the league in base running, and as his legs were all bruised and scraped by sliding, a manager who was not an idiot would have a care of such valuable runmakers for his team. Lake had "Charley-horse." Hathaway's arm was sore. Bane's stomach threatened gastritis. Spike Doran's finger needed a chance to heal.
But when he reminded Red Wolf that the Shawanoe dwelt beyond the Great River, whither the Pawnees had not penetrated, and that Deerfoot had made known that his errand was to look for the captive pale-face, all fear of his being in the company of a war party was removed. However, no matter what explanation was given, it brought forward other questions which could not be explained away.
Deerfoot made known his purpose to take his friends across the Mississippi on the morrow in his canoe, after which he would keep them company for some distance along the trail, though he would be forced to leave them long before reaching their destination.
So the stallion passed out into the night at his usual graceful walk, while his rider for the time listened and peered into the darkness behind him for sound or sight of the Assiniboines who would have given much for a chance to revenge themselves upon the daring youth that had outwitted them. At the end of half an hour Deerfoot slipped from the back of his steed and pressed his ear to the earth.
It may be said the stranger leaped into view, for Deerfoot was looking over a certain spot at the country beyond when a peculiar, flitting movement caused him to depress his glass to learn the cause.
"Dot's vot I dinks no times, yaw I means dot ish vot I dinks mine Belf." "Good!" said Jack, reaching out and patting his shoulder; "if you will devote a few minutes to hard thought before speaking a single word, you will improve until one of these days you will be able to speak as well as Deerfoot."
The apron was abruptly raised to the eyes, and as the white hands were pressed against the face her whole frame shook with emotion. Deerfoot looked steadily at the pitiful scene, but he knew not what to say or do.
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