hat Hay-uta had
told proved the same thing. But the Shawanoe had no fear that they would
rush upon and overwhelm him, and he had been in too many perilous
situations to hesitate before any duty.

The Indians turned their heads and surveyed him as he walked unevenly
forward, holding his bow in one hand, and making signs of comity with
the other. They showed no surprise, for such was not their custom; but
stoical and guarded as they were, Deerfoot could see they felt
considerable curiosity, and the fact that he carried a bow instead of a
gun must have struck them as singular, for he came from the East, where
the white men had their settlements, and such weapons were easily
obtained. These strange Indians had firearms, though beyond them in the
far West were thousands who had never seen a pale-face.

Deerfoot's friendly salutations were answered in the same spirit, and he
shook hands with each of the eleven warriors, who seemed accustomed to
the civilized fashion. He seated himself a short distance from the fire,
so as to form one of the dozen which encircled it. No food was offered
the visitor, but when one of the strangers handed him his long-stemmed
pipe, Deerfoot accepted and indulged in several whiffs from the red clay
bowl.

The two warriors whom Hay-uta had pointed out as members of the party
that had bought Otto Relstaub from the Sauks, were objects of much
interest to the youth. They could not have observed it, but he scanned
them closely, and when he sat down, managed to place himself between
them--one being on the right, and the other on the left.

Thus far, hosts and guest had spoken only by signs, but a surprise came
to Deerfoot when the warrior on his right addressed him in language
which he understood.

"My brother has journeyed far to visit the hunting grounds of his
brothers, the Pawnees."

The words of the warrior made known the fact that the party belonged to
the Pawnee tribe, but the amazing feature of his remark was that it was
made in Deerfoot's own tongue--the Shawanoe. The youth turned like a
flash the instant the first word fell upon his ear. He knew well enough
that no one around him belonged to that tribe, but well might he wonder
where this savage had gained his knowledge of the language of the
warlike people on the other side of the Mississippi.

"My brother speaks with the Shawanoe tongue," said Deerfoot, with no
effort to hide his astonishment.

"When Lone Bear was a child," said th