the front and flowed toward the horseman into the open country to
the rear. Had it taken the opposite course there would have been no
hesitation on his part, for he would have known that an outlet was in
advance through which Whirlwind could pass. On the other hand, it might
be that the ridges united and the torrent had its source in the water
which poured over the rocks at the head. If this proved to be the fact,
Deerfoot would be obliged to retreat and make a change of course.

His belief was that the ridges did not join and it was therefore
prudent for him to go on. Two causes led him to this conclusion: the
ground was favorable for the hoofs of his horse, and the course of the
canyon was the direction he wished to follow. It was a small matter
anyway, for an hour or two loss of time could make no special
difference. He spoke to Whirlwind, who stepped off with his usual proud
stride. Now that daylight had come and the ground was inviting, the
steed of his own accord broke into an easy gallop, which his rider did
not check.

Arriving at the farthest point visible at the moment of starting,
Deerfoot found that though the walls drew somewhat closer they did not
meet for at least a half mile in front, where again a change of course
hid the actual truth. He was now following the black, sandy bed of a
stream, packed so hard that it gave an ideal floor for a horse's hoofs.

The Shawanoe had not reached the turn in the canyon when he made an
alarming discovery. Looking to the rear he discovered fully a dozen
horsemen coming toward him on a walk. They were probably a half mile
off, and no doubt were pursuing him. He would not have felt any
misgiving but for the instant suspicion that these Indians were
Assiniboines and the other division of the party from whom he had
retaken Whirlwind. They must have recognized the black stallion, and,
if so, of course knew he had been captured by the Nez Perce, as they
supposed him to be. On no other supposition could their action be
explained.

Without checking his steed, Deerfoot turned and pointed his glass at
the red men. One glance was sufficient. They were Assiniboines, and no
doubt those for whom the other group were waiting in the grove miles
distant.

Where they had come from with such suddenness was more than the
Shawanoe could guess. It mattered naught since they were there, and his
situation was not only unpleasant, but likely to prove dangerous. If
the canyon closed he wa