erfoot was as to the horses. To the south of the
main village stretched an expanse of undergrowth, bushes, succulent
grass and herbage, where the animals of the tribe were turned loose to
roam at will when not needed by their owners. The Nez Perces, with
gestures and the few words that were understood by Mul-tal-la, said the
horses of their visitors would be found at the place described. It was
not far off, and Deerfoot broke into a lope, his friends at his heels.

It required but a few minutes to reach the tract, which covered a
number of acres. At different points glimpses were caught of horses
cropping the grass and herbage. The first animal recognized was Zigzag,
who was so near that the moment the party debouched into the space he
raised his head, looked at them and gave a neigh of recognition. Then
he resumed his grazing, as if he felt that he had done all the honors
due from him.

"Yonder is Prince!" exclaimed Victor, running forward to greet his
horse, while George Shelton began searching hither and yon for Jack.
Mul-tal-la did not see Bug, and showed more interest in Deerfoot's
search than in his own animal.

The Shawanoe had halted on the edge of the pasturage ground, glanced
quickly over his field of vision, and then, placing a thumb and
forefinger between his teeth, he emitted a blast like that of a steam
whistle. It was a signal he had taught the stallion, and he knew that
if the horse was within a mile he would come toward him on a full
gallop. Deerfoot repeated the call twice and then waited and looked and
listened. None of the horses so much as raised his head, and the heart
of the youth became like lead.

"Whirlwind is not here," he said sadly to the Blackfoot. George and
Victor hurried back, drawn by the signal whose meaning they understood.
In truth, when they left his side it had been more for the purpose of
hunting for the stallion than for their own animals. Their hearts ached
for Deerfoot, whose face was the picture of disappointment and grief.

"Call to him again," suggested George.

"It can do no good. If he is near he would have heard Deerfoot; he is
gone."

"He may have wandered beyond reach of your signal," said Victor. "You
know he never felt friendly toward other horses and always kept by
himself."

With a weak hope that his friend was right, Deerfoot walked a hundred
yards to where an uprooted tree lay on its side, climbed upon the
trunk, and, facing the different points of the c