rning white man to shield his foster-father and
brother. The young hunter was now convinced that his visitor had spoken
truthfully.

"Sam," he ventured to suggest, "this young brave was stolen when he was
a little child, and he has lived with his Shawnee father ever since. He
doesn't want to betray him. You cannot blame him for that, can you?"

"There is only one way to deal with the varmints!" retorted Sam hotly.
"You might just as well try to make a pet out of a nest of rattlesnakes
as to try to be friends with an Indian. No, sir! This--whatever he is,
white man, or red man--he must prove what he has said, and the only way
for him to do it is to take us to the place where he pretends that canoe
is buried in the ground."

The brutal manner of the hunter apparently had made a deep impression
upon the stranger. With manifest reluctance he finally consented to
conduct the party to the place where the canoe was buried. It was well
known among the settlers that the Indians, after their voyages on the
river, buried their light canoes to prevent them from being warped by
sun and rain.

"You go where owl cry. Owl scream, me fader--iron----" The stranger
stopped as if he was unable to recollect the word he wished to use,
making motions with his hands to describe what he wished to say.

Peleg suggested, "Was it an iron kettle?"

A vigorous nod from the stranger indicated that was the word he was
trying to recall, and he continued, "Me fader hide iron kettle in hole
in tree. Me show you."

"You wait here," ordered Sam, "while I get two or three more men and we
will soon look up that kettle."

Peleg suspected that the white Shawnee, in order to delay the quest of
the hidden canoe and thereby give his foster-father and brother an
opportunity to escape from the region, had suggested a visit to the tree
where the cry of the owl had alarmed his father.

In a brief time, however, Sam and his companions returned, and the
hunter roughly ordered the stranger to lead the way.

CHAPTER XIV

THE HIDDEN CANOE

While Sam Oliver had been gone to the fort to secure a few of his
comrades to accompany him, the young Indian, or white, or white
Indian--Peleg was uncertain to which class his visitor really
belonged--entered with apparent confidence into conversation with the
young scout. In his broken English he related many things concerning the
life which he had lived in the wigwam of his foster father.

Peleg was impressed