"Such is the wish of Deerfoot," replied the Shawanoe, whereat Terry Clark gave signs of breaking out again; but at a warning look from Fred he restrained himself.

"Deerfoot loves the Hunters of the Ozark; he has promised to make them a visit; he will do so with his friends that he has found in the woods, and who forget to keep their guns loaded."

"No use!" exclaimed Terry, bounding in the air, striking his heels together, and flinging his hat aloft with a loud whoop; "I must give gintle exprission to me emotions, even though it makes a war with England."

The others showed no objection to this harmless ebullition, and he speedily became quiet again.

Had Fred Linden been intimately acquainted with Deerfoot, he would have noticed that he was not entirely at ease. Now and then he darted glances about him, as though he half expected the appearance of some unwelcome person. The glances were so quick and furtive that neither Fred nor Terry noticed them.

"Deerfoot," said Fred, the three still standing; "we have concluded that there isn't a better place along the trail for a camp."

To the surprise of the boys, he shook his head in dissent.

"Why, this is where father and the rest spent the night when they last went this way."

He nodded to signify that he agreed with them.

"There were three of them, and they had their horses, that could not be well hid; when my brothers go into camp for the night, they should take a place where all who went by would not see them."

It struck the others as curious that the Shawanoe should talk in that fashion, when they could not see any cause for alarm; but they had enough faith in him to accept his judgment on such an important matter.

He added:

"Come with Deerfoot and he will show his brothers where they may slumber in peace."

Without any more explanation the Shawanoe moved down the bank of the brook, following a course parallel to the flow of the water, the other two keeping at his heels. He did not look around until he had gone more than a hundred yards. Then it was that the little party found itself in a rocky section, with a rough cavern on their right--that is, the bowlders and rocks were jumbled together in such a fashion that there was some resemblance to a cave. The chief merit of the place, however, was the privacy that it afforded, rather than the strength as a means of defense against an enemy.

"This suits very well," said Fred, taking in all the points at a glance; "here is a rocky bed on which we can start a fire, and the other rocks and bowlders will keep off the wind, if there happens to be any; the water is handy, if we should need it, and it is certain that we are not as likely to be seen here as where we first selected."

"Deerfut," said Terry, who was nosing about, "I obsarve ashes here, as though somebody had been ahead of us."

"Deerfoot built a fire but a few moons ago, and staid over night."

"If it was good enough for ye, I can stand it," said Terry, "which is the remark me uncle made when the Duke of Argyle asked him to stay to dinner."

The boys unfastened the bundles from their backs and prepared to spend the night where they were. The blankets were spread on the flinty floor, and Deerfoot, setting down his gun beside theirs, helped to gather the wood with which to keep a fire burning. The three were so active that it took but a short time to collect all that was needed. This was thrown into one pile, from which it could be withdrawn as wanted.

I must give you a better idea of the spot where the three decided to spend their first night in the woods together. They had walked northward from the trail, and, so far as they could see, the country was of the most broken nature, though the abundance of trees and undergrowth did not permit an extended view. Two ma.s.ses of stone rose to the height of a dozen feet, and were separated by about the same distance. These rough walls extended back to a distance of three or four yards, where they came against a similar formation. Thus, as may be said, there were three sides to an inclosure, that part facing the brook being entirely open.

On top of these supports were tumbled an irregular ma.s.s of bowlders and rocks which formed the roof. The latter had so many openings that it was as well ventilated as the roof of the house about which the Arkansas Traveler tells us.

The rear part of the cavern, if it may be allowed that name, was stone, while the front was earth. Near the center, Deerfoot had kindled his fire when he staid there, the smoke finding ready escape through the openings above. Such a fire might give some warmth were it needed, but the blaze was so well hidden by the surrounding walls that it was not likely to be seen by any one pa.s.sing no nigher than fifty feet: therein lay the reason why it was selected by Deerfoot.

After piling up the fuel for the night, the youths threw some branches on the ground, near the rear of the cavern, and then spread their blankets over them. The Shawanoe carried no blanket with him, so it was expected that he would share the couch of his friends.

While the three were busying themselves in this manner, Fred Linden was disturbed by a suspicion that had been growing from the moment Deerfoot expressed dissatisfaction with the spot selected for their camp. This suspicion was that the young Indian had a fear of something to which, as yet, he had made no reference.

I have already shown that it was not generally considered a dangerous business in which the hunters of Ozark engaged. The rough, outdoor life sometimes brought with it hardships, and occasionally sufferings, but chief among the dangers was not that from Indians. It was known that now and then the red men fired spiteful shots at the invaders of their hunting grounds (as was the case with Michael Clark, the father of Terence), but in this section of the west that particular peril was deemed less than that which threatened from wild beasts. There was no instance of the hunters having been molested on their way to and from the trapping regions: why then this special caution of Deerfoot?

Fred Linden, while turning these thoughts over in his mind, gave but the one answer--_the Winnebago_. He was an intruder in that part of Louisiana, and he had shown by his acts how ready he was to shed the blood of innocent white persons. It was not a supposition merely that this fierce warrior had companions. The keen eyes of Deerfoot had discovered the proofs that there were a half dozen, at least, with him, and from whom he separated for a short time while he entered into the "side speculation" with Brindle and her bell; so it will be seen that Fred Linden was not only right in his suspicion that the Wolf had to do with the unrest of Deerfoot, but that the latter possessed good cause for his misgiving.

The Winnebagos, having drifted so far away from their own hunting grounds into this part of the world, were either going further from home, or were on their way back. Had the Wolf behaved himself, the band would have gone and come without the knowledge of any of the pioneers, unless there was a chance meeting in the wood, when it is not likely that any harm would have resulted.

But one of the Winnebagos was struck in the face by a white boy, while a young Indian, a friend of the latter, having "got the drop" on the Wolf, had taken his gun from him. In other words, the crime of a.s.sault and robbery had been committed.

Would the rest of the Winnebagos pocket the outrage and meekly withdraw from the country?

That, it would be seen, was the all important question, upon which great events, as affecting the friends in whom we are interested, hinged.

It was in violation of the nature of the American race that any member thereof should refuse to resent an indignity, when there was a chance of doing so. The Winnebagos had the best of reasons for believing that, by prowling around the settlement, or along the trail leading thereto, they would soon gain an opportunity to wipe out the disgrace put upon the Wolf, and, if not able to get back the gun that had been taken from him, would be able to procure another.

The fact that this valuable weapon was carried in the hands of a boy, who had started to tramp through the woods to a point a hundred miles off, and that it was not at all impossible that the Winnebagos found, or would find it out, gave emphasis to the cause of Deerfoot's uneasiness.

It is worthy of note that, while Terry Clark never once took this view of the situation, it occurred to his friend Fred, who waited for the Shawanoe to make some reference to it.

"He knows best, and if he doesn't choose to say any thing about it, there is no call for me to do so."

The shadows of night were creeping through the wood when the fire was started, and the smoke began stealing upward through the openings in the rocky roof.

"Deerfoot," said Fred, when the fire crackled brightly, "the rule is, that a party in camp like this, must have some one on guard while the others sleep. I don't know as there is any need now, but if you think so, let Terry and me do it, for we are not in need of sleep."

The Shawanoe looked at him intently for a moment as though he would read his thoughts, and then quietly said:

"Deerfoot will be sentinel to-night!"

CHAPTER XVI.

AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE.

Inasmuch as Terry and Fred had enough lunch left to furnish all that was wanted, Deerfoot decided not to hunt for any thing else. At that hour, when it was growing dark, it would have been hard to find any game; but he told them that at no great distance above, the tiny brook issued from a small lake, where he could easily get all the fish he wanted.

Accordingly, the fire having been started at the rear of the cavern, where the smoke found free vent, the three sat within a circle of light, and partook of the coa.r.s.e bread and cold venison. The latter was tough, but it could not withstand the teeth of the two youths, whose appet.i.tes were such as wait on high health.

It was noticeable that the young Shawanoe ate no more than half as much as each of the others. Then saying that he wished to view the camp from the outside, he went out in front of the cavern. He remarked that he would be gone only a few minutes, but he took his gun with him.

When Deerfoot emerged from the rude shelter it was fully dark. There was a moon in the sky, but the density of the surrounding forest kept out the rays, so that the gloom could not be penetrated to any distance.

He stood still and listened. His sense of hearing, like that of sight, was trained to a wonderfully fine point, as you have learned in the incidents previously related, so that faint noises, such as you or I could not have detected, would have told their full story to him.

But nothing more than what may be called the natural sounds of the wood fell on his ear. Then the young Indian leaped lightly across the small brook in front of the cavern and walked some two rods beyond, where he paused and listened again. After this he made a complete circuit of the cavern. This compelled him to cross the little stream once more, brought him back to the mouth of the retreat, and caused him also to climb over a great deal of broken ground, but a shadow could not have made the circuit more noiselessly. He stopped several times and listened with the same profound attention, occasionally looking toward the cavern within which his friends were eating their supper and talking together in low, guarded tones. He caught the murmur of their voices, which would have been audible to no one else beyond a dozen feet. Just above the large opening in the cavern, through which most of the smoke found its way, a faint, dull glow showed that the camp-fire was burning below.

The inspection made by Deerfoot was satisfactory; he had discovered no sign of any prowling enemy, and the party could not have found a place where there was less likelihood of disturbance by any foes who were in the neighborhood. It would seem indeed that nothing short of a most exceptional mishap could bring any danger near. So he once more entered the cavern, and seated himself by the fire, upon which Fred Linden had just thrown a bundle of sticks that filled the cavern with a light like that of noonday.

Terry insisted that Deerfoot should take his blanket, because the Shawanoe had none, and the one belonging to Fred Linden was enough for the others. Deerfoot at first declined, but his young friend persevered, so the half-dozen yards of heavy stuff were spread on the rock and earth floor of the cabin, and then Deerfoot disposed of himself in a lolling att.i.tude, reclining on his left elbow, while he looked across and through the blaze at his two friends, who were stretched out in almost a similar att.i.tude. It will be borne in mind that he was nearer the mouth of the cavern than were the others: in fact he was about half-way between where they were stretched and the open air. Fred and Terry did not notice this, or, if they did, they supposed it was accidental, though it was done with forethought by the sagacious young Shawanoe.

The evening was yet young, and the circ.u.mstances were such as to make the boys talk at a rate that almost overwhelmed Deerfoot, who always showed a deliberation in his speech, as if he weighed each word before allowing it to fall from his lips.