Without hesitating a moment, the Pawnee made answer:

"Lone Bear speaks with a single tongue; he can not tell where the pale-faced warrior is."

It might have been supposed that the Indian was trying to mislead Deerfoot, but the latter saw his meaning and understood that it was his anxiety to tell the truth which caused him to make answer as he did.

"How many suns ago did the Pawnee part with the pale-face?"

Lone Bear showed he was thinking. His brow wrinkled and he seemed to be looking at something a mile behind the Shawanoe. Then he began counting on his fingers, like a child solving some problem in addition. Seeing that Deerfoot was watching him, he held up his left hand, with his fingers spread apart, and touched them one after the other with the forefinger of the right, until he had checked off four, thereby indicating that four days or suns had elapsed since he had seen Otto Relstaub.

"What tribe bought him from the Pawnees?"

"The pale-face went with no warriors."

"With whom did he go?"

"The pale-face was in the woods alone."

This was astonishing information, for it implied that Otto, like Jack, had managed to escape from his captors; such, however, was not the case.

Deerfoot repressed all sign of deep interest as he plied Lone Bear with questions.

"Did the pale-face run away when the skies were dark, or was it when the sun was in the sky?"

"The sun was so high that when Lone Bear walked in the clearing it cast no shadow," replied the Pawnee, thereby signifying that Otto Relstaub disappeared at high noon. As it was clear that even the acute Deerfoot did not grasp the full story, Lone Bear attested his sincerity by adding:

"The youth whose face was pale became ill; he could not walk; the Pawnees lingered hours, hunting and fishing; but his face was white like the snow; he tried to rise, but fell down like a pappoose when its eyes first look on the day. Red Wolf raised his tomahawk to slay him, but Lone Bear stayed his arm. The Pawnees marched on and the pale-face lay on the leaves, white and ready to die."

There at last was the practical solution of the mystery. The Pawnees had not bartered off Otto with any other tribe, but were journeying homeward with him when he fell ill. His captors had tarried near him for a time, but instead of recovering he had grown weaker, until one of the Indians proposed to end the trouble by sinking his tomahawk in his brain. He had been prevented from doing so, and then the warriors had quietly moved on, leaving the poor youth to die alone unattended in the wilderness.

But had he in reality perished? That was the question which was to be answered, but in order to do so, it was necessary for Deerfoot to gain all the information he could from Lone Bear, who, in fact, was the only one that could give it. He therefore plied him with questions, until nothing more was left to tell. His revelation was pitiful indeed.

Without any sense of the pathetic side of the narrative, Lone Bear repeated his account of how, while they were moving at a leisurely pace, Otto fell ill. It happened to be late in the afternoon, and as the spot was favorable, the company went into camp. The poor fellow lay ill all night, and on the morrow was so pale and weak, that his captors believed he could not live many hours. Still they stayed in the neighborhood until noon, when they abandoned him to his fate. Believing he would not survive more than a few hours, Lone Bear and another warrior placed his gun beside him, covered most of his body with leaves, laid his hat over his face, and composed his limbs, as if for the grave. Otto seemed about to die, and showed no interest in the last sad rites, his eyes being closed when they departed.

Having obtained these particulars, Deerfoot learned another surprising fact—the point where Otto was abandoned to die, instead of being a long distance to the east, was full three days' journey in the opposite direction. That is to say, the Pawnees, after parting with the lad, had doubled on their own trail and were now the distance named from where it was supposed he had died.

The cause for this retrogression was the love of migratory life which is characteristic of the American race. The Pawnee villages, as I have stated, lay a long ways to the north-west, but among the party that had been on the long tramp, was a strong minority in favor of moving their town to the neighborhood of the river across which we have seen friends and foes pass so frequently. It abounded with game, had plenty of water, numerous fish, and its surface was undulating enough to suit their fancy. All this, no doubt, could be found in other places nearer home, but the stretch of open land which followed one side of the stream for a considerable distance, it may be said, was the deciding inducement. It was the ideal of a site for an aboriginal metropolis, for there was just enough land to put under cultivation to meet their simple wants.

The attractions of the locality formed the principal theme of discussion, until, when three days' journey from the river, the minority had become the majority, and it was decided to return and make a more thorough examination of the neighborhood. They were thus engaged, in their lazy fashion, when Deerfoot, Hay-uta and Jack Carleton overtook them, and the incidents already told followed.

By the time all this became known, the young Shawanoe felt that Lone Bear had nothing more to tell him. Otto Relstaub, if alive, was to be searched for many miles further toward the Rocky Mountains, though, if he was as ill as was represented, he must have succumbed long before.

While Deerfoot had no thought of breaking his pledge to the Pawnee, he was too prudent to trust him. Should he hand him back his weapons he might not attempt to injure the youth, but he would tell his comrades enough to lead them to do their utmost to thwart the purpose of Deerfoot and his friends.

"Let my brother listen," said the Shawanoe, stepping closer to him, as if to make his words more impressive. "When the sun is yonder," pointing to the horizon, "Lone Bear will come to this tree; he will look on the ground, and will draw the leaves aside; when he does so he will find his rifle, his knife and his tomahawk; his brothers shall never know they have been touched by Deerfoot!"

There was a certain chivalry in this proceeding, for it gave to Lone Bear the means of rejoining his friends without the humiliating confession he would be obliged to make if he appeared unarmed; for he could invent no fiction that would wholly conceal the truth. All that remained to do was to keep out of sight until sunset, when he could make his way to the spot, recover his weapons and go back with a story of the long reconnoissance that had held him away much longer than was anticipated.

Lone Bear thanked his conqueror for the regard shown him, and the Shawanoe strode off toward the main body of hostiles. He made no change in the route, until beyond sight of the Pawnee. Then he turned to the left, his course being part of the circumference of a large circle, until it brought him to the westward, or, as may be expressed, to the rear of the single enemy. He now approached the large tree which had served him so well. As he expected, Lone Bear was not in sight.

Deerfoot smiled as he stepped to the spot, and, bending over, laid the captured weapons on the ground and covered them with leaves, so as not to attract the notice of any one passing near. That done, he withdrew, the faint smile still playing around his mouth.

Having promised Lone Bear that his weapons should be given back to him in payment for his story (which the Shawanoe was satisfied was true), the conscientious young warrior would not allow any thing to prevent the fulfillment of his pledge; but he expected that when sunset came he would be many miles away, and it would be a grievous inconvenience to return. Much, therefore, was to be gained by this course. Again, Lone Bear, having no thought that his property would be given up by the Shawanoe before the time he had set, would not be likely to go near the tree until the close of the day. Then, when he was armed again, it would be too late for him to work Deerfoot ill. Possibly, however, he might take it into his head to return earlier; but the Shawanoe cared very little if he did, for even then he felt there was little, if any, cause for fear.

That which Deerfoot now wished to do was to proceed westward with all speed. He had learned from Lone Bear a description of the camp where Otto was left, so that he was confident he could find it with little trouble. Although considerable time had passed, yet when such a party moved through the wilderness they left a trail which could be followed a long time. Deerfoot was confident he and his friends could reach the spot in a couple of days, but his plan was that he should press on alone, leaving Hay-uta and Jack Carleton to follow at a pace more suitable to them. By putting forth his amazing speed, he knew that the three days' journey of the Pawnees could be covered between the rising and setting of a single sun.

Had he been alone, he would have crossed the river at once, and by the time night was closing in would have been many miles on his way; but the first step was to rejoin the Sauk and his young friend. A perfect understanding must exist between him and them, and that could be done only by an interview.

Furthermore, though a quiet seemed to hang over wood and river, it could not be doubted that Hay-uta and Jack were in much personal danger. They were on the same side of the stream with the hostiles who were hunting for them, and it would be no trifling matter to extricate themselves.

And again, Lone Bear would be sure to give a "pointer" to the rest of the warriors, by which they would suspect that the purpose of the little party was to push on and hunt for the boy that had been left alone to die in the woods. Thus, while Hay-uta and Jack were following their friend, the Pawnees would be trailing them and another curious complication of affairs was likely to result.

Deerfoot had seen enough, while along the river, to satisfy him that his friends were further down the stream than the hostiles whom they were seeking to avoid. His first step, therefore, was to circle to the left, so as to pass around the spot where he had seen them gather near their canoe. On his way, he discovered one of the scouts prowling through the wood; he easily avoided him and took care that his own presence was not suspected.

At the proper moment he emitted the signal, which in case the Sauk was listening, would be understood by him. It required great care, for more than likely some shrewd Pawnee would catch it up and turn it to account, as has been done times innumerable under similar circumstances.

There was no response, and Deerfoot did not repeat it until he had gone some distance further. Then the whistle was emitted in the same guarded manner, and almost immediately brought its reply. Fearful that the latter came from a foe, Deerfoot kept his position, and, with all his senses alert, indulged in some variations which were answered as only Hay-uta could answer them. All doubt being gone, Deerfoot now advanced unhesitatingly, and a minute or two later was with his friends.