surroundings, but
he knew where to look for that which he expected and yet did not want to
see. For fully an hour the Shawanoe held his motionless attitude, gazing
as fixedly to the southward as ever an eagle stared at the sun. Then
that for which he was waiting appeared.

From the very crest of the distant mountain peak, a flaming arrow
suddenly began climbing toward the stars. Up, up it went, as does the
rocket on a summer night, going slower and slower, like an old man
plodding up hill, until, wearied out, it paused, and, for one instant
remained stationary in the air, as if doubtful whether to push on or to
fall back. The flaming point swung over until it pointed toward the
ground, when it shot downward with ever increasing swiftness until it
vanished. It must have struck within a yard of the spot from which it
had been driven upward.

It was very rarely that Deerfoot showed excitement. He had drawn his
knife and challenged the great Tecumseh to mortal conflict, and he had
faced death a score of times in the most dreadful shapes, but very
rarely, if ever, was his heart stirred as by the sight of the burning
arrow on the distant mountain peak.

He straightened up with a quick inspiration, and his eyes followed the
course of the fiery missile from the moment of its appearance until it
vanished.

"_They have called for Deerfoot!_"

These were the remarkable words which fell from his lips, as he plunged
down the mountain side like one who knew a question of life and death
was before him. Although Deerfoot had formed a friendship for Jack
Carleton and Otto Relstaub similar to that which he had felt for Ned
Preston and Wildblossom Brown, yet it must be admitted that they were
not the only ones to whom he was strongly attached, and in whose fate he
felt as deep an interest as in that of any human being--all of which
shall be made clear in another place and at another time.

It was just one week later that Deerfoot made his appearance near the
settlement, and, pausing at a point which commanded a view of the
collection of cabins, he spent several minutes in surveying them and the
pioneers. He had traveled many miles, and been through some singularly
stirring scenes since he last looked upon Martinsville, but the gracious
Being that had protected him all his life, did not desert him in his
extremity, and the frame was as supple and free from weakness or injury
as when he faced the other way.

When the burning arrow