"Well, I see that we feel different about this thing," Running Fox told them. "There is no use of talking any more. We must wait until the light comes. Then we will go and look sharp at those tracks. If they tell us that Spotted Deer was taken away by the Shawnees, we will know what to do. If we cannot tell about it then we must separate. Some of us must go to the Mohawk village. Some of us must try to follow the people who walked away. My friends, that is all I can tell you about it."
"We will wait until it gets light," agreed his friends.
A moment afterward Running Fox rose and walked away. His heart was heavy with grief and he wished to be alone. He made his way to the edge of the timber and seated himself at the base of a giant pine. The great, black forest was hushed in slumber. The night was glorious. The air was sharp and still. The heavens were sprinkled with stars. The river sparkled in the moonlight. Running Fox was unimpressed. His mind was filled with thoughts of Spotted Deer.
"It is bad," he kept telling himself.
Convinced that Spotted Deer had been captured by either the Mohawks or the Shawnees, Running Fox realized that each moment of delay lessened the chance of saving him. The thought that Spotted Deer might be depending upon him drove him into a frenzy of despair. He saw little chance of overtaking his foes before they reached their village, and then he feared he might be too late to help his friend. His courage weakened at the thought. Spotted Deer had been his loyal friend and companion since early boyhood, and a strong affection existed between them. They had shared many perilous adventures and each had risked his life to save the other. Now, when he believed Spotted Deer was in urgent need of assistance, Running Fox felt powerless to help him. The thought overwhelmed him with grief. Rising to his feet, he spread his arms toward the sky and offered an earnest, impassioned appeal to Getanittowit, the Great One.
Great Getanittowit, listen to my words.
Getanittowit, something bad has happened.
Getanittowit, tell me about it.
Great Getanittowit, my heart is black.
Getanittowit, take pity on me.
Getanittowit, make me brave and strong.
Getanittowit, give me power to find Spotted Deer.
After he had finished his appeal, Running Fox stood for a long time staring anxiously into the heavens. Then a star swept across the sky and dropped into the west. The superstitious young warrior accepted it as a good omen. He believed that his prayer had been answered.
"Getanittowit has sent me a sign," he said. "Now I will find Spotted Deer."