lready been told.

Meanwhile, Tall Bear and his warriors met with no better success than
the smaller party. The proof became so strong that the whole district
was on the alert that he abruptly changed his mind and led his warriors
at a sweeping gallop to the northward over the trail of Red Feather and
his warriors.

When he arrived on the scene he heard the curious story the five
warriors had to tell. A dwelling at last had been found in which the
occupants were not fully prepared, or rather, were so insignificant in
strength that no company of Sioux, however small, could consent to a
repulse.

But there stood the cabin defying them. Red Feather had forced his way
partly through the window and then was caught so fast that, but for the
mercy of the sturdy youth within, he would have been killed without
being able to use a finger to defend himself.

Among the whole party who heard the remarkable narrative, there was not
one who would have thought of keeping a promise made under such
circumstances as was that of the chief. No pledge could have been more
solemn, and yet those are the very ones that are first repudiated by the
red man.

To Tall Bear and his band the action of Red Feather in descending the
chimney was natural. The bitterest enemy of the chieftain never
questioned his courage, and, knowing how chagrined he must feel over his
mishap, they could understand the desperate feeling that prompted the
deed, the like of which was seldom if ever known before.

There was little said about Red Feather's wish to keep his agreement
with Melville, for the reason I have already hinted--his proposal to do
so was not earnest enough to mislead them.

But to the Sioux outside it looked very much as if the descent of the
chimney by the chief had marked the end of his career. Among all the
warriors there was not one who believed the truth--that he had been
changed from the fiercest enemy into the most beloved friend of the boy
and girl.

The tantalizing shout of Melville from the window was proof to the
warriors that Red Feather had been slain by the boy, though, as I have
said, no report of a gun was heard from within the building.

The chieftain's course, after proving himself a friend of the brother
and sister, showed his desire to keep his presence in the house
unsuspected by his own people. He took care that no glimpse of him was
caught through the windows, and he refrained from firing when he had any
number of cha