the rays of the declining sun. "He smiles and is waiting for
me."

A divine joy suffused the heart of the Shawanoe, when he not only heard
these words, but noted the expression which illuminated the countenance
of the Sauk, who had but a few more minutes to live.

And while stirred by such emotions, there were other matters which
Deerfoot could not forget. True, he had slain the only Pawnee near, but
he could not feel sure that all danger from that source was gone. Others
might be drawn to the spot, within a brief period, and he cast a
searching glance on his surroundings, to make certain he was not taken
unawares. Had a half dozen hostiles burst upon the scene, the Shawanoe
would not have deserted Hay-uta, so long as breath remained in his body.

There was hope for a moment on the part of Deerfoot that his friend
might not be mortally hurt, but such hope vanished almost as soon as it
came. The wound was in the breast; it bled slightly, but the eye of the
Shawanoe (aside from the appearance of the Sauk), showed the poor fellow
was beyond the power of human help.

"The heart of Deerfoot is glad," said the Shawanoe, still resting on one
knee, and holding the hand of Hay-uta, while he looked kindly into his
face. "Deerfoot had drawn his bow, and would have driven his arrow
through the heart of the dog of a Pawnee, but the bow broke and the
arrow fell at the feet of Deerfoot."

This statement seemed to recall Hay-uta to his situation; he compressed
his thin lips, as if forcing back a moan, and his free hand groped at
his side in feeble quest of something. Before Deerfoot could divine his
purpose, he grasped his handsome gun, leaning against the rock, and made
as if to pass it to Deerfoot. The latter was obliged to help him, and
resting the stock on the ground, he leaned the muzzle toward the other,
and awaited his words.

"Had that been in the hand of Deerfoot, then Hay-uta had not died."

"My brother speaks with a single tongue, as he always did," replied the
Shawanoe, in a sad voice; "the bow is broken."

"Let my brother use it no more; let him take the rifle which he now
grasps."

"It shall be done as my brother wishes."

"The heart of Hay-uta rejoices; let my brother take the powder-horn and
bullet-pouch of Hay-uta."

With great gentleness, Deerfoot slipped the string of the Sauk's
powder-horn over his neck, unfastened the bullet-pouch, and placed them
and the proffered tomahawk about his own person. Before