Deerfoot in The Mountains

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

A complication was threatened by the return of the other Assiniboines, but aside from that Deerfoot did not mean to wait a half hour longer than was necessary. His stealthy approach was continued until in the gloom he made out the dim outlines of the timber. The western terminus of the lake lay just to the left, so that in order to reach the camp he had to diverge for some rods in that direction. But the way was clear and the brief circuit brought him to the edge of the wood, with the calm sheet of water stretching for a half mile to the east, which was on his right hand.

The first step was to locate the Indians and their horses, for the wise general acquaints himself with the battle ground upon which the momentous issue is to be decided. The twinkle of light that glimmered among the trees guided the Shawanoe, and with little trouble he gained a position from which, unsuspected by the Assiniboines, he had a perfect view of them.

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CHAPTER VI.

COMRADES TRUE.

The picture upon which Deerfoot looked recalled many similar ones in Ohio and Kentucky. There were six warriors seated on the ground, most of the party in lolling postures, three smoking long-stemmed pipes, and all had evidently partaken of food a short time before, for a faint odor of broiling venison or bison meat was in the air, and the signs within the camp showed that a meal had been prepared and eaten.

The burning sticks were piled against the base of a tree more than two feet in diameter and were burning so vigorously that the circle of light reached well beyond the group and pierced the shadows among the pines and cedars. A brief survey of the group left no doubt that they were awaiting the arrival of friends, as they had been doing for hours past, and might continue to do through the remaining night.

There was no reason why the Shawanoe should lose any time in surveying the Assiniboines, for he felt no interest in them. He was surprised to note that every one had a rifle, none being armed with the primitive bow and arrows. He tarried only long enough to decide in his mind who was the leader, and therefore the new proprietor of Whirlwind. Deerfoot had no special enmity against him, for it was Amokeat, the Nez Perce chieftain, who was responsible for the loss of the stallion.

The Shawanoe had straightened up and was silently withdrawing from his advanced position, holding the sheltering tree between him and the camp fire, when he was startled by a whinny from some point in the gloom close at hand. Turning his head he caught the dim outlines of Whirlwind making his way among the trees toward him. The sagacious stallion, through that wonderfully acute sense of smell which his species often show, had discovered the proximity of his master and had set out to find him. The space between the two was so brief that Deerfoot had hardly paused and looked behind him when the silken nose of Whirlwind was thrust against his face, and after his old fashion he touched his tongue to the cool cheek of his master and then affectionately rested his head on his shoulder.

It was a critical situation, for the steed had already warned the Assiniboines that something unusual was going on, but the delight and gratitude of the Shawanoe were so deep that he could not deny himself the pleasure of caressing his steed. He touched his lips to his nose, patted his forehead and neck and murmured: