“Yes. When you reach the top of this rock you will see your camp.”
“Good-by.”
Percy extended his hand, but Oneotah hesitated to accept it. Percy laughed.
“Have no fear,” he said. “I will not serve you as he did.”
Oneotah placed his hand in Percy’s, who uttered an exclamation of surprise as he received it.
“No wonder he hurt you,” he cried; “why your hand is as soft as a girl’s.”
Oneotah withdrew his hand quickly.
“I must return to Smoholler,” he said. “Come back, and he will show you the Black Spirit and the White. Farewell!”
With these words, he bounded swiftly away, and was soon lost to sight among the trees.
“No wonder he is called the Antelope!” exclaimed Percy Vere, as he gazed after him; “for he is as fleet as one.”