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Updated: June 9, 2025
They knew where he was when he supposed himself invisible, and they had been amusing themselves at his expense. On the evening succeeding the departure of Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub from the little settlement of Martinsville, the widowed mother of Jack was seated by her fireside engaged in knitting.
His face was very wide, the small twinkling eyes fax apart, and the funny pug nose inclined in the same direction. His neck was short, and hair long and thick. His dress was similar to that worn by Jack Carleton, except that everything, even to the shoes, were of the coarsest possible nature. Jacob Relstaub, the father of Otto, was not merely penurious, but he was miserly and mean.
"Why?" quickly asked the mother. "They cannot find him." "Vy don't they finds him?" asked Jacob Relstaub, banging his cane again and glaring fiercely at the youth, as though ready to spring upon him. Deerfoot looked calmly in the forbidding countenance, and asked, more directly than was his custom: "Are you the father of my brother, Otto?" "Yaw; of course I ish.
The Pawnees had been handled so roughly that they made no further attempt to molest the little party that seemed to them to be under the special care of the Evil One. Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub were permitted to sleep until breakfast was ready; then, when aroused, they were in high spirits over the prospect before them.
The two had discovered the fact that the horse before them belonged to Otto Relstaub, and was the one for which the poor lad had hunted in vain so long and which, therefore, was the cause of all the misfortunes that had befallen him and Jack Carleton.
All were dark and silent excepting one. He noticed the gleam of light from the window, and thought it likely that some one was watching by the bed of sickness; but the thought had hardly come to him when he recalled that it was the cabin of the German Relstaub, who had left him in such a rage.
"I'm going to be ill," he said, pressing his hand to his forehead; "something is wrong with me." The shock which came with the conviction was deepened by the belief that he was about to go through the experience that had befallen poor Otto Relstaub. "He fell sick while tramping through the woods with the Indians, and they have either tomahawked or left him to die.
Deerfoot stopped at Jacob Relstaub's cabin, in this very settlement, some weeks ago, when it was raining harder than now, and asked for something to eat, and to stay all night. What do you 'spose Relstaub did? He abused him and turned him away." "What a shame!" exclaimed the good woman indignantly. "Why did Deerfoot not come here or to one of the other cabins?"
With a faint hope that he might be able to do something for himself when the worst should come, Otto stealthily drew out his hunting-knife, and held it tightly grasped. One thing was certain, that, weak and almost helpless as he was, he would not submit without making a good fight for himself. The terrifying walk of Otto Relstaub ended sooner and more agreeably than he anticipated.
Relstaub asks for the blanket, we can tell him that an Indian took it before we found the horse. That will be the truth." Deerfoot looked straight in the face of the young Kentuckian, and his lips parted as if on the point of speaking, but he refrained, and with his shadowy smile, again shook his head.
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