t the deer and bear where they can
be found; but why should the Sauk and the Shawanoe be enemies?"

And to give point to the question, Deerfoot advanced and offered his
hand. The Sauk concealed his surprise and gave the fingers a warm grasp,
but while doing so each looked distrustfully in the face of the other.
The frightful stains on the broad face of the elder did not alarm
Deerfoot, who had seen much more frightful countenances among his own
people. He gazed calmly into the eyes of the warrior, as the two stood
close together with their hands clasped. The Indian is an adept in
concealing whatever emotions may stir him, but Deerfoot saw the savage
was puzzled over his action. He could not but know that the Shawanoes
were the most warlike Indians in the Mississippi Valley, and one of the
last weaknesses of which they could be accused was that of showing mercy
to an enemy.

One point was necessary for Deerfoot to establish. If the Sauk was
alone, nothing was to be feared from him; but if he had brother warriors
within call, the youth had need to be on his guard.

"Why does the brother of Deerfoot hunt the woods alone?" asked the
young Shawanoe, introducing himself in this characteristic fashion.

"Because Hay-uta fears not to go everywhere alone; from the ridge-pole
of his wigwam flutter the scalps of the Shawanoes, the Hurons, the
Foxes, the Osages, and the strange red man whom he has met and slain in
the forest."

The old nature in Deerfoot prompted him to take this vaunting warrior to
task. The answer of the Sauk was indefinite, but the youth could wait a
few minutes for the information he sought.

"Hay-uta, the Man-Who-Runs-Without-Falling, has not taken the scalp of
Deerfoot, _and cannot do so_!"

The flash of the eye which accompanied these words added to their force.
Before they could receive reply the youth added:

"Hay-uta is a brave man when he talks to squaws; less than twenty great
suns have passed over the head of Deerfoot, but he is not afraid of the
Man-Who-Runs-Without-Falling."

Indian nature is quick to resent such taunts, and beyond a doubt the hot
blood flushed the skin beneath the paint. Deerfoot noted the glitter of
the eye, and a twitch of the muscles of the arm whose hand rested on the
knife, as he made answer:

"The Shawanoe is a dog that crept up behind the Sauk, without giving him
warning; the rattlesnake speaks, but the Shawanoe does not."

Deerfoot was angered by these words bec