Alas, too, that while he was considering the question, his ear caught the soft rustle that told him one of his own race was seeking his life. Deerfoot was sorrowed more than angered. He wished that the Winnebago had taken some other time to make his stealthy attack.
Joined to this emotion was that of another akin to sympathy for the Winnebago in his complete discomfiture. He had come back to regain his rifle, but not only had failed, but had lost his knife, and now was standing at the mercy of a Shawanoe young enough to be his son. The latter resolved that, though the Wolf had earned death, he would not harm him, unless forced to do so in self-defense.
For half a minute the warriors, with ten feet separating them, looked straight at each other in silence. Fred Linden and Terry Clark slept soundly, for as yet there had been no noise sufficient to awake a light sleeper.
"Why does the Wolf seek the life of Deerfoot?" asked the latter, willing to relieve the embarrassment of the other.
"The Wolf sought the gun that had been stolen from him."
"But it was not hidden in the blanket, that he should drive his knife through it."
"The Wolf believed it was," was the curt response.
"Does the Wolf strike with his knife at his own gun?" asked the Shawanoe, without betraying any emotion.
"He would rather do so than that it should stay in the hands of an enemy."
"It never would have been in the hands of an enemy had the Wolf acted as a brave warrior; but he sought the life of the young pale face who had never done him harm."