t Deerfoot
waited till Lone Bear was erect again, when he called to him,

"The heart of Deerfoot is sad because Lone Bear can not run without
falling; let him go to the lodges of the Pawnees and ask the squaws to
teach him how to run."

Lone Bear made no reply, for it is safe to say he could not "do justice
to his feelings". Few Indian tongues contain words that answer for
expletives, which in one sense was fortunate and in another unfortunate
for Lone Bear.

When several of the pursuers brought their guns to their shoulders,
Deerfoot shot like an arrow among the trees and vanished. It was time to
do so, for his enemies were close upon him.

Though the Pawnees had learned of the swiftness of the young Shawanoe,
they had no thought of abandoning the attempt to capture him. The flying
tresses would make the most tempting of scalps to dangle from the
ridge-pole of the wigwam, and because he could outrun all their warriors
was no proof that he could not be overcome by strategy.

When the fugitive disappeared, the same signal of which I have spoken
was repeated, and the Pawnees scattered--that is to say they plunged
into the wood at different points: they did not try to overhaul him by
direct pursuit.

Two of the Indians declined to join in the chase, but walked toward Lone
Bear, who having assumed the perpendicular again, was looking around, as
if uncertain of the best course to pursue.

The American Indian, as a rule, is melancholy and doesn't enjoy innocent
fun as much as he ought, but, as I have shown, there are few or none in
which the element of humor is altogether wanting. The two of whom I am
just now speaking, shook with laughter, as they saw Lone Bear sprawl
over Deerfoot, his heels flying in air, and their mirth became so great
when the young Shawanoe used his crown as a stepping stone, that they
paused from weakness.

Lone Bear knew nothing of this, and when he saw them approaching, their
faces were as long and grave as if on the way to attend the funeral of
their dearest friend. Perhaps he expected to receive a little sympathy,
but he must have felt some misgiving.

"Lone Bear runs like the wild buck," was the remark of one of the
warriors, though the observation itself did not amount to much, nor
could the one to whom it was addressed see why it should be made at all.
He, therefore, remained silent, feeling as though he would like to rub
some of the bruised portions of his body, but too dignified to