found, and talked as freely as though no hostile was within a hundred
leagues of them. The Sauk had little to say, a few words between him and
Deerfoot being sufficient. Then, as if to allow them to talk
unreservedly (though, of course, he could not understand any thing
said), he walked a short distance away. He was just far enough removed
to be visible to the two friends. His purpose was to mount guard while
they conversed, though there was little need, for Deerfoot could never
forget his vigilance.

When the touching story was ended, Jack looked at his friend and asked:

"Do you think he is dead?"

The young Shawanoe nodded his head.

"The Pawnees saw he was very ill; his face was like snow; he was weak;
they laid his gun beside him and covered him with leaves."

"Why didn't they take the gun? It was worth a good deal, and the Indians
hold such things in high value."

"When the Pawnees bury a warrior, they bury his weapons with him; they
were afraid to take the gun; they covered his face with his hat----"

"Are you sure of that?" broke in Jack.

"Such were the words of Lone Bear, who spoke with a single tongue."

"If they left Otto three days' journey away, with his hat lying on his
face, I should like to know how it comes to be _here_."

And Jack drew the article from under his coat, and handed it to
Deerfoot. The latter did not conceal his astonishment, for he identified
Otto's property at once. He asked his friend for the particulars, and
received them.

Deerfoot's theory was overturned by this discovery, and it was beyond
his power to explain the presence of the hat so far away from where the
owner had been abandoned. It would be supposed that the discovery would
throw discredit on the story told by Lone Bear, inasmuch as the two
seemed irreconcilable; but such was not the case. Deerfoot did not doubt
Lone Bear's words, and I make free to say just here, that subsequent
discoveries proved that the vanquished Pawnee had not deviated from the
truth in the first particular.

The active brain of the young Shawanoe grappled with the puzzling
problem, and he was still unable to solve it, when the faint report of a
gun was borne to the ears of himself and friends. It was so faint,
indeed, that Jack Carleton just caught the sound, but it was as distinct
to the warrior as if fired within a hundred yards.

I am aware that it sounds incredible when I state that the single report
of the rifle, far away in the wi