ion until he lost
consciousness of every thing else.

Deerfoot was half tempted to smile when he reflected that the vigilant
Sauk, while engaged on a delicate duty, had forgotten all about it, even
to the personal danger involved. Reflecting on the new and divine
revelation, he had sat down where he believed he was not likely to be
disturbed, and given himself wholly up to the sacred joy of the hour.

While he sat thus guns were fired, shouts were uttered, and signals were
sent out that were intended for his ear alone, but he was no more
conscious of them, than if he had been wrapped in slumber a hundred
miles distant. No statue in bronze could have been more immovable than
he.

Viewing the countenance of the Sauk, Deerfoot noticed the radiant light
which seemed to glow through every feature, and which told of the great
peace that was brooding in his heart.

O blessed hope! as free to the beggar at the gate as to the master
within the palace; to the sinking mariner, as to the sceptered king; to
the savage in the depths of his own solitudes, as to those who listen to
the silver chimes of magnificent churches; thou art free to every man,
woman and child, and to the uttermost islands of the sea! Beneficent
Father! thine ear is ever open, and thine hand is ever stretched forth
to save the perishing everywhere!

Deerfoot stood lower down the slope, where he instinctively screened
himself behind a tree. He was watching the face of his friend, when he
became aware that another individual was similarly employed.

Still lower down the slope, and about the same distance from Hay-uta as
was Deerfoot, a Pawnee warrior, who was creeping along noiselessly, rose
to the upright position. He was bent so low at first that Deerfoot
failed to see him; but when he straightened up behind the trunk of a
tree, the Shawanoe shrank back a few inches, so as to hide himself. Then
he watched the Pawnee, who was less than a hundred feet distant.

The first sight showed Deerfoot that he was the warrior whom he and
Hay-uta captured the night before, and who was given his liberty by
them. More properly it was given to him by Hay-uta, who, you remember,
played the part of Pocahontas to Captain John Smith. The whole thing was
a scheme of the Sauk, who hoped thereby to make a "friend at court", and
to secure an ally who would give them help in their quest for Otto
Relstaub.

The Pawnee, therefore, saw before him the party who, he must have
belie