When Deerfoot and Hay-uta parted company with Jack Carleton, he feared he had several hours on his hands without any means of employing mind or body. The active operations of the campaign, so to speak, were in charge of the Sauk and Shawanoe division, while the young Kentuckian in reserve had little prospect of being called upon to take part in the engagement.

But Jack, it will be noted, was almost opposite the open ground, whereon burned the Pawnee camp-fire, and, by using care, he could hold it under inspection as long as he chose. He had his choice of peeping from the trees and undergrowth along shore, or of climbing the tree from whose top the Shawanoe and Sank gained their first knowledge of the Pawnees. Nearly every one would have stayed on the ground, but in obedience to a whim, the lad climbed to the perch where his friends held themselves a short time before. He carried his gun with him, for though it would have been much more convenient to leave it below, the act would have been a piece of remissness unpardonable in his situation. When, however, he was half-way to the top, he carefully shelved it among some branches, where it could not fall. He continued to climb until the limbs bent with his weight. Cautious at all times, Jack then softly pushed aside the branches in front of his face and found he was looking directly across and down upon the Pawnee encampment.

At the moment of doing so, a slight incident caused him some uneasiness. Among the group on which he gazed with such interest, he observed a warrior standing on the other side of the fire, rifle in hand, with his face turned toward the young Kentuckian. Not only that, but he seemed to be watching Jack himself. So startling was his appearance, that the youth shrank back, allowing the vegetation to close in front of his face. This was done with a certain abruptness, which (if he was right in his suspicion), was unfortunate, since the action would be the more noticeable to the Pawnee. Then Jack stealthily parted the leaves and peered out again.

The warrior was motionless, the stock of his gun on the ground, while his right hand lightly clasped the barrel, his left thumb inserted at his girdle, close to the handle of his knife, much after the fashion of some of us who use the arm holes of our vests for that purpose.

The distance, slight as it was, prevented Jack Carleton from verifying or disproving his suspicion. The painted face was turned directly toward him and held stationary, as is often the case when a person is trying to identify some sound which faintly reaches his ear. Had he been gazing straight at the lad, he would have appeared just as he did when stealthily viewed by the youth.

"I wonder whether that rascal is looking at me," said Jack to himself, when he peeped timidly out the second time; "they're as sharp-eyed as owls, but he never could have thought of any one in this perch, if he hadn't accidentally looked at the spot. I'm afraid it would mix things for Hay-uta and Deerfoot, if any of them should get a sight of me."

He was reminded of the experience of himself and Otto Relstaub when, some weeks before, they were made captives by the Sauks, within a short distance of Martinsville. At that time, one or two of the warriors, while the boys were watching them, walked away from the camp in such an off-hand manner, that neither dreamed their real purpose was to pass to the rear of the prowlers and make them prisoners.

"I'll keep my eyes on him," was the wise conclusion of Jack, "and if he starts off in the woods, I'll slide down this tree and make a change of base in short order."

To the great relief of Jack the warrior did not maintain his impressive pose, nor did he do what was dreaded and half expected. One of the red men addressed him and he immediately gave attention.

"It was only an accident," was the conclusion of the youth; "he couldn't have seen me—helloa!"

Jack had full warrant for his excitement, for, at that moment, who should walk into his field of vision but Deerfoot, the young Shawanoe.

He advanced from the wood as I have already described, and saluting the astonished Pawnees with a certain stateliness, opened the conversation. He was not long in discovering that Lone Bear was the only one with whom he could converse intelligently, and the two, as you remember, were soon seated beside each other. It was Lone Bear who, at the first glance, Jack Carleton thought was looking at him.

The dread that the boy felt, when first left alone, that time would hang heavily on his hands was gone. He knew the Shawanoe well enough to feel certain that he would keep things moving.

And so he did. I will not repeat the story of Deerfoot's experience, which partook more of a comedy than of a tragedy. The young Kentuckian held his breath when Lone Bear drew his knife and rushed upon the Shawanoe, and his excitement was almost irrestrainable as the latter began dancing backward with his infuriated assailant plunging and striking at him. When the Pawnee sprawled, with his feet kicking the air, Jack forgot where he was and laughed with delight.

"Hurrah for Deerfoot!" he called; "the whole crowd ain't enough for you! you are worth all of them!"

The Pawnees were on their feet hurrying toward the combatants, and scarcely less excited than the young Kentuckian perched in the tree-top. But, stirring as was the incident, it was very brief. With the exceptions already made known, the red men dashed into the woods in hot pursuit of the fugitive.

"Deerfoot against the world!" exclaimed Jack, jerking off his cap, as though he was about to fling it toward the clouds, but he restrained himself and the cheer which could not be locked between his lips was so impeded in its escape that it reached no ears on the other side the river.

"Deerfoot beats the beaters," he added, bringing his feelings under control; "I don't believe there ever was such a fellow; it must be that Providence intends him for some work, and like Washington he can not be killed until that work is done."

Jack had made a similar remark to his mother, when they were talking about the Shawanoe some weeks previous, and he now recalled with a shudder her comment, to the effect that the slightest of causes would bring death to him just as quickly as to any one else, and, sooner or later, he must succumb to the inevitable. It seemed not unlikely that the prowess of the young Shawanoe was an element of peril to him, since he relied too much upon it.

But the youth had eluded the hostiles, when they seemed about to overwhelm him, and Jack was confident now that he had the cover of the woods, where he was at home, that he could laugh his enemies to scorn. The reports of guns, however, which reached his ears, could not but produce a disquieting effect, which the lad felt for a long time afterward.

"I wonder whether any one could have heard me," he muttered some minutes later, when his nerves became calmer. "I forgot myself, as the Indians themselves did, but I guess no one noticed it."

That prudence which should never leave the frontiersman, suggested that he ought to descend the tree, and seek some other place of hiding. Unfortunately, he decided to stay for awhile where he was.

There was much to occupy his attention, and keep alive his interest; for the discomfited Lone Bear and his mock sympathizers were in plain sight, and the gesticulations were so clear that it seemed to Jack he could comprehend the words spoken.

But the most stirring scenes lose in time their interest, and, despite the situation of Jack Carleton, it was not long before his thoughts reverted to Otto Relstaub.

"Poor fellow," he muttered, "it does seem as if every thing went wrong with him; I have no father, but if I had, he could love me no more than mother. With Otto, however, it is a thousand fold worse, for he is treated as if he were an intruder in his own home. He has been abused, almost starved, and, to crown all, sent into the woods to look for a horse that was lost a long time before, and of which there remains not the faintest footprint. I wonder whether they will ever grieve for Otto if we go back and tell them he is dead?"

When Jack pondered over the cause which led his friend to leave home, he could not express his feelings. To him there was something incomprehensible in the brutality of the parents toward their only child. He was tempted to believe it was all a great mistake.

But second thought showed there was no error, and he asked himself whether there was any ground to hope that the German lad was alive, and, if so, whether he could be restored to his friends.

The fact that Otto was not among the group on the other side of the stream, added to the misgiving. Hay-uta had made known that he recognized members of the strange party of Indians to whom the boy was sold. If they had kept their captive, where else could he be except with them?

"Every thing points to his death," was the sad conclusion of Jack; "it isn't likely they would trade him off to some one else."

Indeed, to believe such a thing would be to give the captive an unreasonable value as a circulating medium; it was far more likely that, finding his presence a burden, his captors had settled it in the most natural manner that presented itself.

A still darker side to the picture caused Jack to shudder. If the captors of Otto Relstaub had put him to death, was it by a quick taking off, or had he been subjected to torture? Alas, that Jack Carleton was forced to answer the query as he most dreaded.

"But, if he is dead," he added, with a sigh, "he perished long ago, and it can make no difference now to him; but I ain't ready to give up all hope and I won't do so, so long as Deerfoot holds on."

Forcing the distressing subject from his mind, the youth compelled himself to give attention to what could be seen on the other side of the river. Lone Bear and Red Wolf were seated by the camp-fire, talking together, as has been told elsewhere, but the rest of the hostiles were out of sight. Jack naturally wondered the cause of the sudden quarrel that had sprung up between Deerfoot and the warrior who figured so ridiculously in it, but he could only await the return of the Shawanoe to hear the explanation.

The excitement of the lad boiled over again, when, with eyes roaming up and down the open space, he caught sight of his old friend, standing, bow in hand, on the edge of the wood. His pose showed he was making ready to give attention to the unsuspicious hostiles.

"I wonder whether he means to send an arrow through one, and follow it up with a second through another, before he can get out of their way. It may be that Deerfoot isn't as chivalrous as he pretends to be; give him a chance, and, if he thinks no one sees him, he will swing his tomahawk and use his knife right and left."

But we know that Jack did his friend an injustice, as speedily became apparent, when none of the arrows which sped from the large bow harmed either of the Pawnees. Their frantic flight and the laughter of Deerfoot proved that he had done precisely what he set out to do; he had given the couple a shock which they were not likely to forget for many a day.

The occurrence was so amusing that Jack parted the branches in front of his face and waved his hat to Deerfoot. If the latter saw the act of forgetfulness, he was so displeased that he paid no attention to it. When he vanished from sight in the wood behind him, he gave no responsive salute to that of his enthusiastic young friend.