h the usual deliberation, none of the three
speaking of the event that was impending, though the brothers were full
of it. When Deerfoot arose, drew his knife from his girdle, carefully
inspected it and then shoved it back in place and glanced across the
room to where his rifle was leaning in one corner, Victor could keep
silence no longer.

"You know what faith we have in you, Deerfoot, but we are anxious, and
shall be in distress until we see you back again."

"Why are my brothers troubled?" calmly asked the Shawanoe.

"We can't help believing Taggarak will use treachery, for he must know
he isn't certain to win when he attacks you."

"Nothing can make him believe the truth till it comes to him. He will
take no warriors with him. Deerfoot is in no danger. Let my brothers
smile and be glad."

"I wish I could grin, but it's too hard work," was the doleful response
of Victor, the face of his brother showing that he felt the same.

Deerfoot warmly shook hands with each in turn, such being his usual
custom, stooped and drew the flap aside and passed from sight. Enough
of the Blackfeet were astir to notice him moving at a moderate pace
past the lodges toward the clearing at the rear of the village. He
greeted all in their own language, and did not show by anything in his
manner that he had any important matter in hand. He stealthily glanced
here and there, on the lookout for Taggarak, but saw nothing of him.
Perhaps the chief had already gone to the scene of the hostile meeting;
perhaps he had not yet set out, for the hour was early, or, what was
more likely, he had taken another route. Of one thing Deerfoot was
certain: the chief had told no one of what was coming, except
Mul-tal-la, who bore the message to the youth. When the two combatants
should meet, no human eye must witness the terrific combat.

The sagacious Shawanoe had decided to follow a certain line that may
impress you as singular for him to adopt. It seemed like undue
confidence when he declared that he had no fear of the man who was
certainly the most fearful fighter of the whole Blackfoot tribe. Modest
as he was by nature, Deerfoot was too intelligent not to understand his
decisive superiority, as compared with any of his own or of the white
race. That superiority had been proved too often to leave any doubt in
his mind. Moreover, with his youth and high health, he was aware that
these remarkable powers were not declining, but rather increasing, and