"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 Pawnees 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 passed 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."