As the signals were not repeated, Spotted Deer feared that his foes were approaching each other with the hope of trapping him between them. He realized that he must act quickly. For a moment only he studied his predicament. If he attempted to dash down the river, the odds were against him. He felt certain that there were two of his foes in each canoe, and he also knew that the weight of the game in his own canoe would be a serious handicap to his speed. It seemed folly, therefore, to attempt an open race for safety. Still, he knew that if he remained upon the water there would be little chance of avoiding his foes. There seemed but one thing to do, and that was to hide in the woods until the canoemen passed. He resolved to try the ruse.

Night had fallen, and forest and river were cloaked in darkness. Aware that his foes might have come within bow-shot, Spotted Deer realized that each moment was precious. Turning toward the shore he maneuvered the canoe with rare skill. It glided forward as easily and silently as a drifting leaf until Spotted Deer stopped it at the edge of the bushes. He tested the depth of the water with his paddle. It was shallow. He waited a moment or so, listening for a warning of danger. All was still. Feeling secure, Spotted Deer stepped from the canoe and waded toward the shore. As he left the water, he again stopped to listen. He heard a splash a short distance below him. His heart beat wildly. He believed that his foes were close at hand. There seemed little chance of concealing the canoe before they found him. He listened in breathless suspense. In a few moments he heard another splash. This time it gave him relief. He had recognized it as the signal of Amoch, the beaver, slapping the water with his great broad tail.

"Amoch," Spotted Deer murmured, softly.

He moved cautiously along the edge of the woods until he found an opening in the undergrowth. Then he drew the bow of the canoe from the water. Stooping, he seized the fore legs of the buck and dragged it from the canoe. It was a difficult task as the deer was heavy and Spotted Deer feared to make a sound. When the buck was safely on the ground, he drew the canoe into the bushes. Then he crouched behind it to watch and listen for the approach of his foes.

If his enemies passed, Spotted Deer planned to launch his canoe and slip noiselessly down the river. However, he disliked to abandon the deer. It seemed like presenting it to his foes. The idea irritated him. For an instant he determined to take it. Then he suddenly realized the folly of placing himself at a disadvantage.

"Perhaps they will not find it," he told himself, comfortingly.

At that moment he heard a low, indistinct sound on the water. He listened. Long, anxious moments passed. The silence was unbroken. Spotted Deer wondered if he had been deceived. He waited in trying suspense to learn if his fears were real.

"There is no one there," he said, finally.

Then the call of Gokhos, the owl, sounded directly before his hiding place. It was low, and soft, and querulous, and he realized why it had seemed so far away when he heard it before. He listened anxiously for the sound of voices, but the signal was followed by silence. Spotted Deer watched eagerly for the canoe, but it was hidden in the darkness. He wondered if it had passed. He listened for the slightest clew, but heard nothing which would tell him what he wished to know. He waited impatiently for an answer to the call. Many moments passed before he heard it. At last it echoed weirdly across the water. Spotted Deer tried to locate it. He decided that it came from the north. It convinced him that his foes were searching along both sides of the river.

Spotted Deer tried to guess the identity of the mysterious canoemen. He believed that they were Mohawks. The thought filled him with alarm. It suggested disturbing possibilities. They might be scouts moving down the river to spy upon the Delaware camp. Perhaps a war party was following close behind them. The idea filled him with gloom. He knew that the unsuspecting Delawares were totally unprepared for an attack, and he feared to think what might happen if a strong force of Mohawks should suddenly appear before the village. The possibility roused him. His heart filled with a reckless resolve to help his people. He determined to ignore his own peril, and slip away to warn the Delawares.

"Yes, yes, I must go," Spotted Deer told himself.

He listened for further sounds from his foes. As he heard nothing to arouse his suspicions he determined to begin his perilous journey down the river. Aware that the slightest sound might betray him, he drew the canoe toward the water with infinite care. After he had gone a bow-length he stopped to listen. All was quiet. Spotted Deer felt encouraged. Slowly, carefully, a bow-length at a time, he dragged the canoe to the river. When he reached the water he stopped and stared anxiously into the night. Then he stepped into the canoe, and pushed it from the shore.

Once afloat, Spotted Deer believed that he would be safer in the center of the river. The signals had sounded near the shore, and he felt sure that his enemies would expect to find him hiding in the heavy shadows from the forest. The entire river was shrouded in darkness, and Spotted Deer was unable to see more than a bow-length beyond his canoe. He paddled slowly, moving his paddle through the water to avoid making the slightest sound. Realizing that at any moment he might collide with his foes, he was alert and ready for an emergency.

Spotted Deer had gone several arrow flights when he suddenly heard voices. They were close by. He stopped his canoe, and attempted to locate the sounds. The talk had ceased. Spotted Deer wondered if his foes were as near as they had seemed. He knew that voices might be heard a long distance over water, and he realized that the sounds might have come from near the shore. He determined to make sure. His canoe drifted slowly with the water. He made no effort to stop it. It was an easy and noiseless way of slipping down he river.

In a few moments Spotted Deer again caught the low, ominous murmur of subdued voices. This time he located the sounds. They seemed to be directly ahead of him. The discovery alarmed him. He stopped his canoe and turned abruptly from his course. Having performed the maneuver without a sound, Spotted Deer hoped to pass safely by his foes. He had taken only a few paddle strokes, however, when he discovered a long, black object squarely in his path. There was no time to turn. Throwing all his strength into a quick deep stroke of his paddle, Spotted Deer crashed bow foremost against the side of a canoe. It immediately capsized and spilled its astounded occupants into the river. By the time they rose from beneath the water, the wily young Delaware had disappeared into the night.

Spotted Deer paddled furiously down the middle of the river. His eyes twinkled merrily as he heard the angry shouts of the men in the water. They were calling wildly to their companions. Spotted Deer grew serious when he heard their appeals answered from various parts of the river. He suddenly realized that he had encountered a strong force of his enemies. However, having successfully eluded them he was hopeful of getting away.

Then he heard the long, piercing shriek of Nianque, the lynx, some distance farther down the river. The cry had sounded perfectly natural, and still, under the circumstances, he mistrusted it. He ceased paddling and listened suspiciously. Precious moments passed. The call was not repeated. The cries and signals from his foes had stopped. An ominous hush had settled upon the forest. Spotted Deer feared it. He believed that the lynx cry had carried a warning.

"It is bad," he whispered.

Fearing to loiter, he moved cautiously down the river. He wondered if crafty scouts were waiting to intercept him. Could he escape them? The possibility of another collision with his mysterious foes tried his courage. Still, he believed that his safest plan was to continue on his way. Night was his ally, and he hoped to pass safely in the darkness. He felt quite sure that his foes were close behind him. He feared that they would soon overtake him. The thought made him reckless. He resolved to continue down the river.

Spotted Deer paddled desperately to keep ahead of his pursuers. He believed that they would separate and again attempt to trap him between them. The thought made him wary. He determined to keep in the center of the river, as he feared that his foes were on both sides of him. His one chance seemed to be to go ahead. He realized that even that course might bring him into contact with some lurking foe. The mysterious lynx cry still lingered in his mind. It depressed him. If it had been a signal, he felt almost certain that he would find his enemies waiting for him farther down the river.

It was not long before Spotted Deer saw his suspicions confirmed. He was astounded to see the river ahead of him brightly illuminated. On each shore a great fire was blazing fiercely at the edge of the water. The light from the flames spread far out over the river. Spotted Deer realized that it would be impossible to pass without being seen. His heart filled with despair. He appeared to have run into a trap. There seemed to be slight chance of escape. He paddled wildly toward the shore. Sheltered by the darkness, he hoped to elude the foes who had pursued him down the river. He was within bow-shot of the woods when he heard the careless splash of a paddle close behind him. Aware that he had been discovered, Spotted Deer made frantic efforts to reach the shore. An arrow hummed threateningly above his head. A moment afterward he heard another arrow strike the water within bow-length of his canoe. He glanced uneasily over his shoulder. A grim, black shape swept out of the night. Then his canoe crashed against the shore. A piercing yell rang across the water. Seizing his weapons, Spotted Deer jumped from the canoe, and dashed into the woods.