“It’s Deerfoot,” said Joseph, gazing in the direction Robert indicated.
Across the lagoon sped the canoe, propelled by the expert paddle of the Pottowattomie. A moment later Deerfoot landed, drew the canoe ashore and approached the cabin door where the boys were seated. In one hand he held a string of perch and in the other he carried a duck.
What the two brothers both noticed at once, however, was the fact that from his belt now dangled two scalps where the day previous there had been but one. Neither boy dared ask an explanation, however, for they knew that if Deerfoot cared to tell of his exploit he would do so voluntarily. Questions would have no effect upon him other than to make him angry, for curiosity as to other people’s affairs was always regarded by an Indian as very bad breeding.
“Boys sleep long,” said Deerfoot, when he had come to the place where they were seated.
“Yes, Deerfoot,” agreed Joseph. “We were very tired.”
“Me catch fish and duck,” said the Indian.
“So we see,” laughed Joseph. “How did you do it?”
“Fish with hook. Duck with snare. How you s’pose?”
“I didn’t know,” replied Joseph meekly. He considered Deerfoot’s reply a rebuke, for evidently the Indian took it for granted that he should know how the game had been captured. The Pottowattomie did not care for useless questions.
“Did you see anything of Black Hawk?” asked Robert.