to be entangled in that manner. He withdrew, so that when his
enemy landed on the spot, he found himself still confronted by the
defiant youth, who had recoiled but the single step necessary to escape
the blow. Hay-uta, without a second's pause, bounded toward him again,
and brought down his right arm like a flash; but, as before, it cleft
the empty air, and the youth confronted him with his shadowy smile and
defiant expression.

Then, as if feeling he had retreated far enough, the Shawanoe advanced
on his muscular foe, who drew back as if to brace himself for the
assault. Deerfoot uttered no sound, but when he bounded lightly from the
ground, Hay-uta knew the crisis had come; the trifling had ended.

The Shawanoe, when close enough to strike, made a dozen circular sweeps
of his good left hand, as though he had rested it on the rim of a wheel
that was spinning with bewildering swiftness. No eye could follow the
knife in its circlings. There was one smooth gleam like the polished
periphery of the "driver" of a locomotive.

The foes, as is always the case, looked straight in each other's eyes,
but every limb and portion of the body, being in the field of vision,
was clearly seen. The peculiar act of Deerfoot produced the effect
intended. The vision of Hay-uta became confused and dizzy, and before he
could rally the Shawanoe struck his blow.

He could have killed the other as easily as he would have slain a bear,
but he chose not to do so. Instead, he brought his fist down on the
upper part of his right wrist with a quick violence, which, for the
second time, knocked the knife from the grasp of the more sinewy
warrior. So deftly was the trick done that the weapon of the Sauk flew a
dozen feet straight up in the air, turning rapidly end over end and
falling between the two.

[Illustration: DEERFOOT'S VICTORY.]

If Hay-uta was subject to the will of Deerfoot a minute before, it will
be seen that now he was helpless. He had been again disarmed, while the
lithe youth still grasped his own weapon with the power to drive it home
whenever he so willed.

The last act of Deerfoot accomplished its purpose. Hay-uta at first was
self-confident; again, he was hopeful; but the latter time he was
disarmed, his confidence vanished. He saw that much as he had despised
the youth whose life he sought, he was his inferior in every respect. He
was no match for him in a fight, nor could he approach him in his
peerless woodcraft. The qu