The awaking of the boys was of the most pleasant character. The sky had cleared and the sunlight penetrated between the branches from which the autumn leaves were fast falling. The crispness which is felt at that season of the year, stirred the young hearts and enlivened the spirits in spite of the serious situation in which all three found themselves.

The odor of broiling fish was snuffed by the lads, and nothing could have been more delicious and appetizing. They were very hungry, and the night before they supposed they would have to wait indefinitely for their morning meal, but they opened their eyes to find that Deerfoot had provided the most toothsome breakfast that could be imagined.

In the early morning light, fully two hours before the sun appeared, Deerfoot crossed the stream in his own canoe, and, taking the trail, ran several miles at the highest speed. While he did not go far enough to see the camp-fire of the main war party of Winnebagos, he did not pause until certain that they had stayed in camp all night and would not cross the stream where the boys lay asleep until the forenoon was half gone. So the Shawanoe hastened back, and dropped a short distance down stream in his canoe, having obtained his paddle, to an eddy where it took but a few minutes for him to coax a half dozen fish from the cool, clear depths, and these were just browning to a turn when the boys opened their eyes.

Fred and Terry looked in each other's faces and laughed. They knew what an absurd failure they had made. They had promised to watch while Deerfoot slept, and then left him to act as sentinel until morning.

"It was your fault," whispered Fred, hunting in his pocket for the package of salt and pepper which survived, despite the wetting it had received; "why didn't you wake me up, as I told you to do?"

"How could I wake ye up when I was aslaap mesilf?" was the pertinent query of Terry; "I think I was only a half minute behind yersilf in beginning me swate dreams."

"Even if you had roused me," said Fred, "I suppose I would have dropped to sleep the same as you; no one can keep awake (unless it is Deerfoot) while sitting on the ground. Well, I am sure I shan't say any thing about it if he doesn't."

"Let us shake on that," whispered Terry, stealthily extending his hand.

Deerfoot acted as though unaware that any such lapse had occurred. The browned fish were spread on the green leaves, and Fred sprinkled the seasoning upon the portions to be eaten by himself and Terry; the Shawanoe preferred none on his.

"If nothing unexpected happens," said Fred, "we will arrive at the cabin to-day."

The Shawanoe inclined his head by way of answer.

"When will the Winnebagos that are following us come to this stream?"

Deerfoot pointed to a portion of the sky which the sun would reach in about three hours from that time.

"The Winnebagos are together; there may be a few coming from different parts of the wood, but Black Bear has most of his warriors with him, and he feels strong enough to destroy the cabin and our brothers who are there."

"There are three there now, and when we join them there will be six. If father and the rest have fair notice of their coming, they ought to be able to put every thing in good shape for a defense. It won't take them long to gather enough food to last for weeks, but how about water?"

"They have no water; our brothers know not why they should have it."

The Shawanoe meant to say that the men, seeing no reason why they should collect any store of water within their primitive structure, never did so. It was at their door, and, when they wished to drink, they had but to stoop down and drink. Believing no such emergency as now threatened could arise, they failed to make any provision against it.

"I've been thinkin'," said Terry, "that bein' as how we started from Greville to j'in the Hunters of the Ozark, with the idaa of spindin' the winter with the same, that from the time we started we were mimbers of the same, but timporarily separated by a wide stritch of woods; what are yer own idaas?"

"I am not sure that I understand what you are trying to get at, but if you mean to say that we may call ourselves two of the Hunters of the Ozark, I see no objection if we are a few days behind the rest in reaching the beaver runs."

"Oblige me by tistifying to the same," said Terry, rather effusively, shoving his hand toward his friend, who suspended operations with the fish long enough to salute him.

The breakfast was quickly finished, and the boys helped each other with their knapsacks, caught up their guns and followed Deerfoot as he led the way back to the trail. He did not hint any thing about their failure to keep guard for him the night before, though they felt sure that they would hear from him at some time not very far distant.

When they found themselves following the path that had become so familiar, they glanced furtively behind, half expecting to hear the Winnebago war whoop and to see the warriors rushing after them; but not a living soul beside themselves was in sight, and the quiet assurance of their leader very nearly removed all such fear from them.

"Are there any more streams to cross?" asked Fred, a moment after they started along the trail.

"There are none."

"That is good, and since we are several hours in advance of the Indians, we ought to be able to reach the cabin in time to give them warning, that is, if they are in need of it."

"How can they help being in need?" asked Terry.

"The horses were turned loose to look after themselves, and though I can't know for some time how it is, it seems to me that it could well happen that they would not miss the animals for several days and possibly not for a week or two."

The best ground for doubting that the Hunters of the Ozark were aware of the theft of the horses was the fact that there had been no pursuit. Those men, it is safe to say, would not have stayed idle had they known that three vagabond Indians were astride of their property and riding to the northward. With the three fleeter animals at command, they would have been after them in a twinkling: they would not have been obliged to wait till they met Fred Linden before receiving some rifle shots.

Fred was confirmed in this theory by Deerfoot, who declared that such was his explanation of the failure of the hunters to pursue the thieves.

For two hours the trail which they were following steadily ascended, until they were considerably higher than when they left camp in the morning. The undergrowth was abundant, and the wood in some places was so dense that they could see only a short distance on either hand. The trail was sinuous, winding in and out among the rocks in a way that would have bewildered any one not used to such traveling.

At last they reached the ridge of the elevation up which they had been climbing, and found themselves on the margin of a plateau or rather valley, beyond which rose the rugged, precipitous Ozarks. Since the ground sloped away from them, in the direction of the mountains, their view was extended over many square miles of forest, stream and natural clearing, to the mountain walls beyond, looking dim and soft in the distance, with the hazy air between.

"Do my brothers see the gleam of the water yonder?" asked Deerfoot, pointing to a winding stream, large enough to be called a river, though it was half hidden by the woods. Its course was in the main at right angles to the trail which the boys had been following, though, at times it seemed to run straight toward and then away from them.

The youths answered that they could not very well look in the direction indicated by their friend, without seeing the stream to which he directed their attention.

The Shawanoe placed himself so that he stood in front of the two.

"Now," said he, "let my brothers follow Deerfoot's finger and tell me what they see."

Pointing well to the right, he slowly swung his index finger toward the left, until he had described about a quarter of a circle.

Since it was not easy for the two to look exactly at the point meant, at the same time, Terry Clark first tried it. Removing his cap, he closed one eye and carefully peered along the extended arm of the Shawanoe as though it was a rifle which he was about to aim and fire.

"What is it?" asked Fred, a moment later, with some impatience over the plodding deliberation of his companion.

"I obsarve a big lot of traas, some rocks, some water and a claarin' where ye could raise a big lot of praties, and—and—and—"

"I see what you mean!" exclaimed Fred in some excitement; "right in the middle of the clearing stands a large cabin made of logs."

"It's mesilf that obsarves the same," added Terry, replacing his cap and looking inquiringly at the Shawanoe, who let his extended arm fall as he faced about and said: "That is the home of my brothers; that is the cabin of the Hunters of the Ozark."

"Hurrah!" called out Terry; "we're purty near there."

"But we don't know how matters stand," said Fred; "even Deerfoot can not tell whether they are all alive or dead."

"I know bitter than that," remarked Terry, appealing straight to the Shawanoe, who, without directly answering the question, notified them of an interesting fact: a thin column of smoke was rising from the cabin.

"That shows that some one is in there," said the Irish lad, "but whither he is white or rid, I don't s'pose the Shawanoe, with all his smartness, can tell even at this distance."

"My brother speaks truth," said Deerfoot; "our brothers may be well and they maybe dead and the Winnebagos may have built the fire to lure us to them: we shall soon know."

Here for the present we must pause, for we have already filled the space assigned to us; but we propose soon to tell you all about the adventures of Deerfoot, Fred and Terry, and of their friends the Hunters of the Ozark, whom they were trying to help. The story in which this will be related will appear under the title of

"THE CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS."