the figures of the warriors began to grow
indistinct.

Deerfoot felt that he had sowed the seed, and he had only to wait for it
to bear fruit. He arose, and stepping closer to the fire, stirred it
until it gave forth a flame which lit up the surrounding gloom. Still
Hay-uta remained motionless and silent.

Perhaps it has not escaped the notice of the reader that when the Sauk
stood with folded arms before his conqueror, and asked him to bury his
knife in his heart, he said that the son of the pale face would point
the finger of scorn at him. Deerfoot noticed the curious words, and he
felt that the moment had come when he should learn their full meaning.

"Where is the village of my brother?" he asked in his gentle way.

The Sauk aroused himself and slowly rose to his feet. Glancing through
the firelight at his questioner, he pointed to the west.

"Two suns' journey away is the home of Hay-uta. There are his squaw and
pappoose. He left them two suns ago to hunt for the scalps of his
enemies; but he will hunt no more; he will go home, and on his way will
think of the words that Deerfoot has said to him."

"It is well he should do so; but my brother spoke of the son of the pale
face. Why is he in the village of the Sauks?"

"He was brought there in the last moon; the Sauks found two pale faces
in the woods."

"Where is the other?"

"Some of the Sauks took him by another path; Hay-uta knows not where he
is."

"Was harm done him?"

"Hay-uta cannot answer."

"Tell me of the pale face that is in the village of the Sauks with my
brother."

The warrior, assisted by the questions of Deerfoot, who kept down the
deep interest he felt, told all he knew. When he had finished, as the
reader may well suspect, Deerfoot was sure he had gained most important
knowledge. He was satisfied beyond all doubt that the prisoner in the
village of the Sauks was Jack Carleton, whom he had set out to find, and
for whom he feared he would have to hunt for many moons before learning
whether he was alive or dead.

Suddenly the Sauk rose to his feet and stood in the attitude of
listening, as though he had caught some signal. Deerfoot knew he was
mistaken, for had it been otherwise, he too would have noticed it.

"Hay-uta bids his brother good bye," was the abrupt exclamation of the
warrior, who caught up his blanket and, without another word, passed
from sight in the wood, leaving the astonished Deerfoot alone.

CHAPTER XXIII.