Deerfoot in The Mountains

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

"No," replied the astonished parent, "I didn't recall it. I must have a talk with him before he leaves us."

It was arranged after supper that George and Victor should go to the home of Dick Burley to sleep. Room could have been made for them in the cabin of Jack Halloway by letting the three rest on the floor, and he and his mother would have been pleased; but the brothers showed good taste by accepting the invitation of Burley, at whose house, for the first time in many months, they slept in a bed. There was happy content in that home also, for what loving, devoted wife is not thankful when her husband is restored to her and is in his right mind?

That humble home where Jack Halloway smoked his pipe, with his mother knitting beside him and Deerfoot a little way off in his chair, was the picture of serene, grateful pleasure on the cool summer night, long ago, when the three sat in converse.

The youth was so drawn to the pure, sweet-faced, motherly lady that he could not refuse her request to tell her about himself. He talked more freely than was his wont, and said many things he would not have said in the presence of others. She penetrated the nobility of the youth, who could read and write well, whose mind was stored with considerable knowledge, whose woodcraft approached as near perfection as mortal man can attain, and whose strength, skill and prowess (as she gathered from incidents brought out in the course of the evening) were the superior of any person's whom she had ever seen. In addition, as she said to her son the next day, anyone would be tempted to talk to Deerfoot, because it was such a pleasure to look upon the handsome countenance and to make him smile and show his beautiful teeth.

So it was that Deerfoot was compelled to tell the whole story of his encounter with Taggarak, with its remarkable sequel; of his fight with the grizzly bear, and his conquest of Whirlwind, the peerless stallion. He never would have done this but for the persistent questioning of Mrs. Halloway. The boys had told Jack enough on the long ride from the mountains to St. Louis for him to give his mother the necessary pointers, and he helped her in driving the Shawanoe into a corner, where he could not otherwise extricate himself.

The wonderful thing in the estimation of the good woman was that the hero of these and many other exploits was a Christian. She had never seen one of his race who professed to be a follower of the Meek and Lowly One, though she had heard of such from the missionaries; but she agreed with her son that no more perfect exemplar of Christianity was to be found anywhere.

On the morrow, when the time came to part, Mrs. Halloway took the hand of Deerfoot in her dainty palm, and in a trembling voice thanked him for what he had done for her through what he did for her son. She promised to pray for him every day of her remaining life, and while he stood trying to keep back the tears she added:

"Please bend your head a little."

He bent down and she touched her lips to his forehead, and, still holding the hand, said so that all, Jack, the Shelton boys and Dick Burley, could hear, as they gathered round to say the parting words:

"Well done, good and faithful servant!"