Fred and Terry had formed a strong liking for the young Shawanoe, and since he seemed to be in fine spirits, they plied him with questions until they learned the chief facts in his history. When the long conversation ended they knew that Deerfoot was the son of a Shawanoe chief, and that he was born in the Dark and b.l.o.o.d.y Ground. When but a small boy he was like a spitting wildcat in his hatred of the white people, and it was not until he was wounded and nearly beaten to death, that he could be taken prisoner on one of the excursions of his people against the white settlements.

He fell into goods hands and was nursed back to strength. Not only that, but those that had him in direct charge told him about G.o.d, who made the world, who loved His creatures, and who sorrowed to see them trying to harm each other, and who had sent His only Son to die for His lost children. It was a wonderful story to which Deerfoot listened with rapt attention, and all in time (as you have been told in another place), the extraordinary young Shawanoe became a devout follower of the meek and lowly One. He felt that he could never repay the whites for showing him the way to eternal life. Thenceforward he became their friend, and devoted his life to protecting them against the enmity of the red men.

Deerfoot told Fred and Terry something about his stirring experiences with Ned Preston and Wildblossom Brown, and afterward with Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub, but did not hint at one-tenth the services he had rendered the white people. Of all the fierce tribes that made portions of Ohio and Kentucky like sheol on earth, the Shawanoes were the worst: they were the Apaches of the last century. Deerfoot had fallen into their hands and many of his most desperate encounters were with them.

Finally the efforts to take him prisoner became so far reaching that he saw that his usefulness as a friend of the settlements was at end. The rage of the Shawanoes was such that it may be said that some of their campaigns were planned with the sole purpose of capturing the young renegade, whom they hated with a hatred like that of the tigers of the jungle.

You will see, therefore, that not only was the usefulness of Deerfoot as an ally of the whites ended, but he became even an element of danger to them. He had been urged to make his home with those who held him in such high regard, but he could not do so. He quietly withdrew from the country and crossed the Mississippi into the vast Louisiana Territory.

There he had lived for a couple of years, and there he expected to end his days.

"Deerfoot," said Fred Linden, when his remarkable narration had ended, "Terry and I are not new hands in the woods, and we would be much better satisfied if you would allow us to share the night in watching with you."

"Why does my brother think of danger?"

"Because _you_ do; I know it by your actions."

The quickness of this reply struck Deerfoot favorably. He did not think that his conduct had been noticed, and he was gratified that his friend was so observant. That there should be no mistake about his suspicions, Fred added:

"I don't know whether you have seen that Winnebago or not since you started him on the run yesterday; he may be still running, but I am quite sure, from the way you have behaved, that you suspect that he and the rest of his companions are prowling through the woods, on the lookout for a chance to revenge themselves."

Deerfoot's face glowed. Fred Linden had hit the nail on the head.

"My brother speaks the words of truth; his thoughts are the thoughts of Deerfoot."

Terry Clark looked at his companion in astonishment.

"How come ye to know all that, Fred?"

"I see nothing remarkable about it; all I had to do was to observe the actions of Deerfoot since he joined us to-day. In the first place, he wouldn't have made us change our camping place if he hadn't had some misgiving, and then the way he has been mousing around the outside, and his decision to keep watch to-night: why what could tell the story more plainly?"

"Begorrah," said the admiring Terry, "ye are not such a big fool as you look to be; I never thought of that."

"Which looks as if you are a bigger dunce than you seem; but," added Fred, turning toward the Shawanoe, "have you seen any thing of the Winnebagos?"

"Deerfoot has seen their footprints in the woods; they are on the watch for his white brothers that they may gain their scalps, because the gun of the Wolf was taken from him."

"They seem to have hard work in finding us: where do those Winnebagos come from?"

Deerfoot pointed to the northward, or rather to a little east of north.

"Their hunting grounds are many suns' travel that way."

"Why do the spalpeens come down in this part of the world, and why don't they behave thimselves whin they do?" demanded Terry, with some indignation.

Deerfoot shook his head, as though the question was more than he could answer.

"Deerfoot has met Shawanoes and Sacs and Wyandottes and p.a.w.nees far away from their villages and hunting grounds, besides the strange Indians who come much further from the setting sun. The red men travel whither they will. Why the Winnebagos pa.s.sed near the home of my brothers only they can tell."

"Well, they're a bad lot," said Terry, "to try the mean trick they did on me; though," he added the next moment, "I'm glad they done the same, for if they hadn't, how would I've got hold of this lovely gun? Do ye think we shall have any more trouble with them?"

"Deerfoot believes there will be trouble, and it will come soon!"

"Well, if it does, all ye have to do is to take away the rist of their guns and set 'em on the run home agin."

CHAPTER XVII.

A SUSPICIOUS SOUND.

By and by Fred Linden and Terry Clark became drowsy. Devoutly kneeling, they spent several minutes in prayer, and then stretched out on a single blanket, with their backs toward each other, and the face of Fred in such a position that he could look across the blaze at Deerfoot on the other side. The latter had remained still and motionless, while the lads, remembering the lesson they had learned at their mothers' knee, asked their Heavenly Father to hold them in His keeping. The young Shawanoe, who spent many an hour in communion with his Maker, was touched to see that his friends did not forget their duty.

Deerfoot stirred the burning wood so that it threw out more light, and then, reclining on his left elbow, so that the illumination came directly in his face (the worst direction possible), he drew from beneath his hunting-shirt the small Bible, that had been presented to him by the Preston family, and began reading it.

Fred Linden, who had his eyes fixed upon him, was so interested that his drowsiness departed. Without moving he watched him closely. He saw him turning the leaves back and forth, as if looking for some place he had in mind. It took him but a minute to find it, when, still leaning on his elbow, and with the light striking his face and the printed page, he seemed to become so absorbed as to lose all consciousness of his surroundings.

Fred Linden, without betraying that he was awake, surveyed this remarkable performance with an admiration that for the moment made his eyes misty with emotion.

The eyes of Deerfoot were downcast, as he read the page, so that they could not be seen but the handsome oval face; the luxuriant black hair, with the eagle feathers thrust into the crown; the rows of gleaming beads around the neck; the deerskin shirt that covered the breast and arms to the wrists, on the left one of which shone the golden bracelet; the red sash, behind which were shoved the knife and tomahawk; the brilliant fringes of the hunting-shirt and leggins; the small, ornamented moccasins; all these of themselves made a striking figure; but Fred, handsome and rugged himself, who was not accustomed to see any thing like beauty in the human form, was struck with the symmetry of the figure before him. He particularly noticed the tapering legs, and could not help saying to himself:

"There is no Indian or white man that can run as fast as he."

And the mental declaration of the lad was truth. The fleetness of the young warrior had never been equaled, and he had never yet met the person whom he could not outrun with ease and without putting forth his whole speed.

"He don't look strong, but he is the last person that I would want to meet in a fight; I'll bet he is so quick that he could dodge the bullet fired at him."

I must draw the line here: Deerfoot could not do any thing of the kind.

"And he is reading his Bible! I never in all my life saw an Indian who could read a word of print, or do more than sign his name with a cross or some figure like a bug: I wonder whether we couldn't hire him to teach school for us at Greville."

Fred thought a great many queer things about his new friend, but lay watching him fully ten minutes before he spoke. Then, when he saw him turn a leaf, he said in a low voice:

"Deerfoot, will you please read aloud?"

Fred expected that the Shawanoe would start and look up in surprise; but he never raised his eyes, or gave the least sign that these words of his were unexpected. He knew that Fred was watching him from the first, and so, before the words were more than fairly out of his mouth, Deerfoot began reading in a low, impressive monotone, as though he had merely resumed, after turning over the leaf.

"After this I beheld, and lo! a great mult.i.tude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindred, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands;

"And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders, and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces and worshiped G.o.d.

"Singing, Amen; blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be unto our G.o.d for ever and for ever, Amen.

"And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, Who are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they?

"And I said unto him, sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, these are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

"Therefore are they before the throne of G.o.d, and serve Him day and night in His temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them.