an he was. Even
now, when we reintroduce him to the reader, he held an old-fashioned
spelling-book in his hand. He had tried to give his attention to his
lesson, but, boy-like, his mind persisted in wandering, and his mother,
looking fondly across the fire, was so pleased to hear him chat and to
ask and answer questions, that she could not find it in her heart to
chide him.

"You have never seen Deerfoot, have you, mother?" he asked, abruptly
breaking in on his own narrative.

"Yes, I have seen him; he saved the life of your father."

"What!" exclaimed Jack, straightening up and staring at his parent in
open-mouthed amazement: "I never heard of that before."

"Didn't Deerfoot tell you?"

"He never hinted anything of the kind. He once asked me about father's
death and about you, but I thought it was only a natural interest he
felt on my account. But tell me how it was, mother."

"Some months before your father's death, he was absent a couple of days
on a hunt to the south of our home. He kindled a camp-fire in a deep
valley, where the undergrowth was so dense that he felt sure of being
safe against discovery. The night was very cold, and snow was flying in
the air. Besides that, he had eaten nothing all day, and was anxious to
broil a wild turkey he had shot just as it began to grow dark. He
started the fire, ate his supper, and was in the act of lying down for
the night, when a young Indian walked out from the woods, saying in the
best of English that he was his friend. Your father told me that he was
the most graceful and handsome youth he had ever looked upon----"

"That was Deerfoot!" exclaimed the delighted Jack.

"There can be no doubt of it, for he told your father that such was his
English name. I forget what his own people called him. Well, he said to
your father, in the most quiet manner, that a party of Shawanoes were
very near him. They had heard the report of his rifle, and, suspecting
what it meant, were carefully arranging to capture him for the purpose
of torture. Deerfoot had seen them, and, having also heard the gun,
learned what was going on. If your father had stayed where he was five
minutes longer, nothing could have saved him. I need not tell you that
he did not stay. Under the guidance of Deerfoot he managed to extricate
himself from his peril, and, by traveling the entire night, was beyond
all danger when the sun rose again. Deerfoot did not leave him until
certain he had no cause for fe