fifteen feet deep. As it was, there was barely room to
screen themselves from the flying bullets, and had the rain been driven
from the opposite direction when Otto first sought refuge there it would
have given no protection at all.

Jack was half disposed to continue his flight over the ridge, but
fearful of the greater peril to which they would be exposed, and alarmed
by the knowledge that their enemies were almost on their heels, he
darted to the left, and stood with his back against the rocky wall,
grasping his loaded and cocked rifle, ready to fire on appearance of the
pursuers. Otto did the same, and, taking a position beside him, began
reloading his weapon.

The hostiles did not stop, but hastened up the rough gorge, and in a
twinkling the foremost dashed into sight. Quick as Jack was in bringing
his gun to his shoulder, some one else anticipated him. The red man
bounded high in air, with the inevitable death shriek, and went over
backward, his body pierced clean through with an arrow driven with
resistless force from the bow of Deerfoot, the Shawanoe.

This checked the rush of the other two, who found, what they ought to
have known before, that the "Evil One" was on hand. They turned and ran
at break-neck speed down the slope, vanishing with a swiftness that
rendered it almost impossible for Deerfoot to bring down either of them
had he been so disposed. Rapid as was their charge up the slope, their
descent was a great deal more rapid.

Directly behind the arrow came Deerfoot, landing in the presence of the
youths with such suddenness that Jack half raised his gun under the
belief that he was an enemy.

Otto was so startled that he spilled the powder he was pouring into the
barrel of his rifle, and the young Shawanoe smiled and said:

"My brother is not glad to see Deerfoot."

"I ishn't! you shust waits till I gots dis gun loaded."

Working rapidly, he soon had the charge rammed home and the weapon
primed for action. Then, leaning it against the wall, he impulsively
threw his arms around the neck of the Shawanoe and kissed him on the
cheek.

Jack Carleton was horrified, supposing the young warrior would be
offended, but he smiled in a way which showed he was pleased with the
honest fellow, who was not ashamed to show the affection he felt.

During the brief moments spent in pleasant interchange, Deerfoot was
never quiet. His eyes were continually flitting hither and thither, and
he glanced right and