e shore.

It was then he "grasped the situation". The Sauk and his young companion
had taken care of themselves in spite of the large party of enemies;
they had stirred the wrath of the Pawnees to that point that they had
secured re-enforcements to go back and crush the daring foes.

All this proved that it would not do for Deerfoot to linger after the
departure of the party, especially as the one in which he was
particularly interested was in the canoe.

The boat, laden so deeply with painted valor, reached the shore only a
few minutes in advance of the Shawanoe, who, with his usual skill,
avoided detection by friend or foe. The point where he landed was above
that which the canoe touched, for he tried to approach as nearly as he
could the spot where he had left his two friends. He quickly learned
they were not there, and then moved down the stream parallel to its
course, keeping near enough to observe it all the way.

It will be noticed that this took him close to the Pawnees, who were
also searching for Hay-uta and Jack Carleton. In one sense, the larger
body was between two fires, but in no danger. The shape of affairs was
singular. The Pawnees were hunting for the Sauk and his companion, while
Deerfoot, their friend, was also looking for them, but doing it in the
wake of their enemies. The difficulty of Deerfoot was increased by the
fact that whatever signal he sent to his friends, would have to be
thrown over the heads of their enemies.

But the Shawanoe addressed himself to the task with his usual coolness
and confidence. When he caught sight of the warriors, moving along the
bank of the river in no particular order, he fell in, and "joined the
procession," as may be said. It is not to be supposed that the Pawnees
had struck at once the trail of those who took so much pains to keep out
of their way, but the loose manner in which they were following them
indicated that they suspected, rather than knew, the course taken by the
fugitives.

When this had continued some minutes, the Shawanoe appeared to feel the
necessity of reaching some understanding with his friends, despite the
great risk incurred. He therefore emitted the soft, bird-like signal,
which he knew would be recognized if it reached them.

Indeed, there could be no mistake in that respect. The trouble lay in
the fact that it would also be heard by enemies, who, if they did not
know, would be quite sure to suspect its purport.

CHAPTER XXI