"I'll be hanged if I don't try it," laughed Fred, springing to his feet, and instantly but cautiously closing arms with the graceful warrior.
"My brother can not throw Deerfoot," said the latter; "but the heart of Deerfoot would be glad if he would tell him how he would like to fall—on his shoulders, or side, or back."
"I wouldn't like to fall at all; but if you think you can get me on my shoulders, just try it; that's all."
"It shall be as my brother wishes."
The words seemed yet in the mouth of Deerfoot when Fred felt himself sailing through space, and the next instant he landed on his shoulders with a shock that Terry declared made the ground shake.
As before, Deerfoot himself did not fall, but looked smilingly down on his prostrate friend as he began climbing to his feet again.
"Now, if my brother wishes to fall on his back, it shall be so."
"I've little doubt that you will not do just as you say you will; I only ask that you wait till I say I am ready; you did the last before I had time to prepare."
"Ye bitter not ax him to wait," said Terry, who rolled over on the ground in the exuberance of his mirth, at the sight of his big friend going down before the lithe, willowy Shawanoe; "for since he's bound to do what he says, the sooner ye are out of yer suspinse, the sooner ye'll be out of it."
"Be kind enough to attend to your own affairs," said Fred stiffly; "Deerfoot and I are running this show."