but something familiar in his appearance
and the sound of his voice struck me. While I was looking and listening
he shifted his position and I saw his face.

"_It was Deerfoot the Shawanoe!_

[Illustration: "It Was Deerfoot, The Shawanoe."]

"No one who had ever seen that Indian youth could possibly make an
error. I never looked upon such comely features or such a graceful
form, nor did I ever listen to so musical a voice. Like a person in a
dream, I felt no special surprise at seeing before me a person who had
died years before.

"I studied him from head to foot. One of the first things I noticed was
that the stained eagle feathers, which he always used to wear in his
hair, were not there, nor did he have his knife at his girdle nor was
his rifle in his hand. I don't suppose they have need of such things in
heaven.

"During this talk between Deerfoot and my father I did not speak or
rise to my feet. I expected the Shawanoe to say something to me and I
had no wish to break in upon the talk. They spent ten or fifteen
minutes thus, and then Deerfoot took the hand of my father, pressed it
warmly and turned to go. As he did so, he seemed for the first time to
see me. He stopped, looked down, smiled and uttered my name. Then he
checked himself, walked to the corner of the lodge, drew aside the
buffalo robe which served as a door and passed out into the night.

"My father stood for a minute looking after him, and then, with a
glowing face, turned to me:

"'Did you see him?'

"'I did, and heard his voice.'

"'You lost nothing of what he said to me?'

"'Not a word.'

"'Tell them to no one. Now sleep.'

"It was a long time before I closed my eyes, and when I did so the
wonderful words that had fallen from the lips of Deerfoot were in my
ears. To me the strangest part of this strange experience is that which
followed. When morning came I found I could not remember a syllable
that the Shawanoe had said. I spoke to my father, and he talked of the
visit of Deerfoot as he would have talked of the visit of one of our
own Blackfeet. I told him I had forgotten the Shawanoe's words and
asked him to tell them to me again. He replied that God did not wish me
to remember them and he denied my request, which I respected him too
much ever to repeat.

"Chief Taggarak lived several years longer. I have tried many times to
recall the words spoken by Deerfoot when he visited my father, but I
have never succeeded in bringing bac