The Shawanoe had no more time than to straighten up in the open air when he was face to face with Mul-tal-la, who was on his way to see him. They pressed each other's hand and the visitor said:

"Chief Taggarak wishes that his brother the Shawanoe shall come to his lodge."

"Deerfoot goes there," replied the youth, who had been meditating doing so. "Will my brother go with Deerfoot?"

"Only to the lodge. Taggarak does not wish to see him."

The two walked side by side, the hearts of both full. It was so dark that they drew no attention to themselves. Just before the well-known home of the chief was reached, Mul-tal-la turned off without so much as a farewell word.

The war chief was expecting his visitor. He had sent his wife and boy away in order that he might be alone with the Shawanoe. He sat with his back against the rock, his position allowing the firelight to show his face clearly, especially one side of it. As he recognized his visitor he smiled and extended his hand, after the manner of white men. Deerfoot quickened his pace and grasped the palm and laid the other on the shoulder of the chieftain. How different from their meeting by the lookout rock several days before!

"The heart of Deerfoot is glad," said the visitor, in a low, tremulous voice.

"Taggarak hears the birds sing again. There are no clouds before the sun. He is happy, for the Great Spirit smiles upon him."

One of the most marvelous facts connected with the true religion, and itself a proof of its divinity, is its complete adaptability to every condition of life and to every degree of intelligence. Its essentials are as readily grasped by the clodhopper as by the profoundest scholar whose years are spent in delving into the mysteries of science. No finite mind can fathom the mysteries of life, of death, of sleep, of the beginning, the end, of eternity, of the real nature of the soul and of God, how He came into existence; nor, indeed, shall we ever comprehend in all their fullness the simplest phenomena around us. What is the essence of color or taste or smell? How is the word spoken by us understood by him to whom it is addressed? When we move a hand or foot, where and how does the action begin? What is the theoretical limit of divisibility or expansion? These and scores of similar questions have only to be asked for us to feel the utter helplessness of our powers of understanding.

But to the untutored savage, shivering in his rude wigwam and manacled by his sombre superstitions, the essential facts for the saving of his soul become as clear as the sun in the unclouded heavens. The man with a dwarfed intellect can see as plainly as he whose telescope, sweeping the heavens, carries his vision to the bounds of the universe.

"All our philosophic pedants, all our sons of science know Not a whit more than that dullard knew a million years ago."

Deerfoot stayed with Taggarak for several hours. No one disturbed them, and the chief would have kept his comforter still longer had not the latter felt that it was better to leave the Blackfoot to his communings with God.

When at last the Shawanoe emerged like a shadow from the lodge of the chief he did not go to his own home. Instead, he turned off, passed swiftly across the open space that had been the scene of so many contests and games, entered the hilly section and did not pause until he came to the place where he and Taggarak had fought several days before.

Deerfoot had left his rifle at home and was alone. Folding his arms and standing on the very spot where he had flung Taggarak to the earth and held him at his mercy, he looked up at the faintly moonlit sky and murmured:

"Deerfoot does not deserve such happiness as now fills his heart. He thanks God for His mercy."

Never in all his brief but eventful career had the young Shawanoe felt more unmistakably the presence of the Father whom he worshiped and strove to obey. Ambition gratified, triumph obtained, earthly love, physical or mental achievements, defeat of opponents, wealth, pleasure, gratification of taste and longings, all these combined cannot give to the human soul that thrilling happiness which kindles and glows and burns into life when Conscience whispers, "Well done!" and we know that some thought or word or deed of ours is pleasing to God.

Nothing was or could be more real to Deerfoot than the cause of the radiance that suffused his being when he came from the lodge of the Blackfoot chieftain. Science may try to explain such emotions as an exaltation resulting from physical causes, but no such explanation can suffice. We feel that which we feel and know that which we know.



CHAPTER XXI.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

Despite the remarkable experiences of George and Victor Shelton in the Blackfoot village, they found, as the weeks and months passed, a monotony that deepened their homesickness and caused them to yearn for the day when they could start southward and leave the bleak region forever behind. The winters in that latitude are generally severe, and the brothers got a taste of cold weather such as they had never known on the other side of the Mississippi. There must have been repeated spells when, had a Fahrenheit thermometer been in existence, it would have shown a record of thirty and forty degrees below zero.

People who are accustomed to such Arctic experiences know how to prepare for them, and Deerfoot and the boys would have been foolish had they neglected so plain a duty. With wood abundant on every hand, a bountiful supply was kept within the tepee and outside, and weeks passed without the fire being allowed to go out. With the soft, warm furs at command, no one of the three met with more than a brief discomfort because of the fearful cold.

The chief cause of anxiety was the horses. All were provided with shelter and carefully looked after. A good deal of grass had been pulled and much cottonwood and willow bark laid in stock. If the animals could not fare sumptuously, they had enough to keep them in good condition. Fully half a dozen of the Blackfoot horses were frozen to death, and those belonging to our friends would have perished but for the care they received. They were screened by blankets during the unusually severe weather, and Whirlwind received the tenderest attention from Deerfoot. More than once the Shawanoe stole out of the tepee in the depth of the night and tramped over the snow through an atmosphere that was still and as biting as the teeth of a saw. No matter how silently the youth moved forward, the stallion discovered his approach and whinneyed his welcome. Then when the blizzards raged Deerfoot never forgot to call and assure himself that nothing was neglected that could shield the faithful creatures. Thus they were saved from harm until the weather moderated upon the approach of spring.

With the snow lying several feet deep on the level and piled ten times higher among the mountains, Deerfoot and the boys hunted with their friends on snow-shoes. It was exhilarating, but the resistless cold took away much of the pleasure that otherwise would have come to the lads. As for the Shawanoe, summer and winter seemed alike to him.

When the village was helpless in the grasp of old Boreas, the inhabitants did little except cower in their lodges around their fires and eat and sleep. This sort of existence grew almost intolerable to the brothers. With every muscle and nerve yearning for action, they became impatient and sometimes fretful. When they spoke of themselves as prisoners it was the truth.

Taggarak acted kindly toward George and Victor, but never showed any special friendship for them. It may have been because they belonged to another race. Toward Deerfoot he displayed a profound gratitude, a deep affection and reverence, amounting at times almost to worship. He was the messenger who brought the glad tidings of the one and only true God, and the chief in some way or other associated him with the divine message itself, as if he were a part of it.

The snow and cold shut off communication almost entirely between the Blackfoot villages. Early in the winter and toward spring several warriors came down from the most northern settlement, but they did not remain long. It was known, however, among them all that Taggarak, the leading chief, had accepted the new religion, and his authority naturally weakened, but nothing in the nature of a revolt took place against his supremacy.

Deerfoot frequently visited the chief, where none was so welcome as he. Taggarak never went to the tepee of the Shawanoe, for he preferred always to see Deerfoot alone. Mul-tal-la, Spink, Jiggers and seven other warriors openly confessed the Christian religion. Nearly double that number of squaws—among them the wife of the chief—did the same. Slowly and surely the leaven worked, and when the time drew near for the departure of the visitors it is probable that the number of converts was doubled, with the promise of further increase.

Deerfoot and the boys made the parting as "informal" as possible. All through the winter the Shawanoe had impressed upon the Blackfeet that this separation in the nature of things would be brief. The time was certain to come, at no distant day, when they would all be together again. So he smiled, the boys bade good-bye to the numerous lads with whom they had played and hunted, and were so happy over the prospect of soon seeing their own home again that they could not repress their delight nor pay much attention to the regret, if not sadness, of the aboriginal youngsters.

Deerfoot's last hour in the village was spent alone with Taggarak in his lodge. What took place there and what was said by each were never known to anyone beside themselves.

By the middle of the afternoon our friends had penetrated a number of miles to the eastward. A good deal of snow remained, and they had to pick their way with care. They would have been wise had they remained another month, as they were urged to do; but Deerfoot himself was as homesick as his companions and as willing as they to face the hardships that had to be faced for several weeks to come.

Jack, Prince, Zigzag and even Whirlwind showed the effects of their long confinement, but all appeared to share the enthusiasm of their owners and worked royally to get forward. When they had traveled the distance named, the rest given them by their masters was not unwelcome.

Naturally, upon halting, all turned their eyes westward. A moderate mountain spur hid the village from sight, but each knew where it lay. George and Victor scanned the field of vision with the aid of the glass, but noted nothing unusual. When Deerfoot took the instrument he stood for a long time directed toward a certain spot. He expected to see some object, and was not disappointed. On the top of the same bare brown rock where he had caught sight of Mul-tal-la when Deerfoot was coming to the village for the first time, he descried another form. It was not that of Mul-tal-la; it was Taggarak, who had climbed alone to the place, and, silent and motionless as a statue, was gazing after the little party of horsemen as they slowly faded from view in the distance.

George and Victor kept their eyes on their friend, and when they noted the length of time he held the glass leveled they suspected the cause.

"He sees some one," said George, in a low tone.

"It must be Taggarak. Look!"

Deerfoot had lowered the instrument and was peering westward with his unaided vision. He was testing whether he could thus discern that which the glass revealed plainly. Evidently he did so, though the boys could not locate the form, even when they knew almost precisely where to look for it.

Standing upright, the Shawanoe took his blanket from the back of Whirlwind and swung it back and forth over his head, for fully a dozen times. Then, dropping it to his feet, he brought the glass again to his eye.

"Taggarak has seen it," whispered Victor, who, like his brother, was watching the face of Deerfoot and noted the smile come to his countenance.

Such was the fact. As the Shawanoe looked again he observed the chieftain rise from his sitting position and reply to the signal by waving his own blanket. The trained vision of the veteran warrior saw as clearly as those of youth. The action of Taggarak brought him into view of the lads, both noting the flickering of what resembled a mere speck in the distance. Finally, Deerfoot lowered the glass and turned about, as if to say that was the final parting from the chief who held him in such loving remembrance.

The mountain peaks on every hand were covered with snow. On the lower ranges this would gradually dissolve under the rays of the sun, but others were so lofty that the white blanket remained throughout the year. While gazing at a towering range to the northeast the three witnessed the descent of an avalanche. Deerfoot was the first to see it, and directed the notice of the boys to the vast disturbance.

The glance revealed nothing unusual, the enormous extent of slope looking as if it were motionless, but a second look told the truth. A grove of pines at the base of the range were suddenly snuffed out. This was because they disappeared under the prodigious mass of snow and ice that swept over them. Then a dark, irregular line, running right and left, and roughly parallel with the crest of the range, came into view. It was an eighth of a mile in length and the narrow width rapidly increased until there was a rent or yawn of several hundred feet, zigzagging from one side to the other. The dark color of this chasm was due to rocks and ground, and marked the break between the two sections or divisions of the avalanche. The upper portion caught and held, while the remainder swept downward without check. Thus a huge gap was opened, through which the brown earth and stones showed.

The next strange sight was that of boulders, some of them weighing many tons, flung high in air and tossed about like so many corks. One might have thought that Titans were disporting themselves as did the fabled gods on Mount Olympus. As the inconceivable mountain of snow crashed onward it spread out at the base of the range, and finally settled to rest. Had an ordinary town been in its path it would have been buried to the tops of the highest steeples.

Nearly all this had taken place before the three spectators heard the deep, thunderous roar that rolled across the space and told of the stupendous mass that had been loosened by the undermining rays of the sun or by some trifling disturbance of the atmosphere.

"If we should be caught in anything like that," said Victor, "it would take us a good while to dig out."

"My brothers might never dig out," said Deerfoot.

"What is there to hinder?"

"There are many stones and rocks and boulders tumbling about in the snow, and they would be likely to kill us."

"Then, Deerfoot, you must keep your eyes open for avalanches. It would be pretty hard for the horses, though Zigzag has sort of got used to it."

Little need for warning the Shawanoe of his duty. That was what he had been attending to all his life. He had never placed himself and friends in the way of an impending avalanche. Recalling their course since leaving the village, the brothers understood better than before the cause of more than one tortuous winding by their guide, when they had been unable to guess the reason for such quixotic turns that did not lessen the labor of traveling itself.

It was not yet midday, and the halt was not made for food for either man or beast. In truth, grass was so scarce, except here and there in the sheltered nooks and depressions, that some dependence would have to be placed for awhile on the barks of trees. Zigzag showed a meekness that roused distrust on the part of the boys. He must have found the heavy pack quite onerous, but he did not rebel. Whirlwind showed little lessening of his aristocratic tastes, and refused to mingle on anything like equal terms with the common stock around him.

When Deerfoot and his companions were journeying westward they decided to return by a different route from the Blackfoot country. Their first intention was to travel eastward until they reached the upper waters of the Mississippi, and then make their way down that stream to civilization, following in a general way the course of the mighty stream. With their horses, and without large boats, they could not utilize the current, unless perhaps after descending a long distance they were able to construct a large raft.

This plan, which would have taken them through the hunting grounds of the Assiniboines, was changed, and they turned to the southeast, having been told that that course offered less difficulties to them. They gave up their former plan because of their wish to enter a moderate climate as soon as possible. Although spring was well begun, they had a good deal of snow and ice to encounter, and were likely to meet it for weeks to come. This was shown on their second day, when a driving storm of snow and sleet forced them to seek shelter for themselves and horses, and another day passed before they could resume their journey.

The most trying difficulty was that of crossing streams, which were more numerous than they had supposed. Some were mountain torrents of only a few yards width, others deserved the name of rivers, and the current of each was of icy coldness. More than once they saw blocks of ice grinding and tumbling over one another as they plunged rapidly onward. It was so dangerous at times for the horses to attempt to swim across, and so hard and disagreeable for the youths, that hours were spent in hunting for a fording place. Fortunately they were always able to gather enough fuel to make themselves comfortable at night; grass became more plentiful and no trouble was had in procuring game. This generally consisted of bison, but it was a great improvement when they were able to bring down a Rocky Mountain sheep. This animal does not bear wool, but hair like that of the deer, and is larger than the largest domestic sheep. The horns of the males attain great size, starting from just above the eyes, though not touching at the bases, and curving over so as to include all the space between the ears. The meat at certain seasons is very palatable and held in high favor. The animal is generally known by the name of the "big horn," and is so skilful a climber and so alert that it is quite a feat for a hunter to bring down a specimen. Deerfoot was the only one on this return journey who was able to bag the game, which never failed to elude George and Victor Shelton.



CHAPTER XXII.

A MEMORABLE MEETING.

If you will examine the map of the State of Montana you will note that the central county bears the name of Fergus, while one of the counties lying directly south is Yellowstone. The boundary between these two is the Musselshell River, which, flowing directly northward, separates Custer and Dawson counties, joining the Missouri at the northeastern corner of Fergus County. It was in the latter part of May, 1805, that Deerfoot and the two Shelton boys, after a long, wearisome ride and tramp through a wild and unknown region, broken by mountain spurs and crossed by numberless streams, arrived at the mouth of the Musselshell.

Even with summer hardly a fortnight off, ice formed at night, flurries of snow filled the air at times and the camp fire became a necessity. And yet our friends were plagued by mosquitoes, grass was plentiful, and there was no lack of game. The party seemed to be sharing the summer and winter seasons, with the most disagreeable features of both.

Having followed the Missouri so far, Deerfoot said that a crossing place must be found before the morrow, for it was inevitable that the farther they went down stream the larger it would become, because of its numerous tributaries. The Missouri was an eighth of a mile across at its junction with the Musselshell, but its current was gentle. Not an Indian had been seen for four days, and Deerfoot was on foot searching the northern shore for a good crossing place when George Shelton called out:

"Look! There are white men on the other side of the river!"

Deerfoot had observed them and had halted and scrutinized them with no little interest and wonder. The first sight was of six or eight men coming round a bend in the Missouri, all having hold of a long elk-skin rope which, passing over the shoulder of each, was fastened to a large pirogue. Directly behind them was a similar boat, and then six small canoes, the whole string being towed by fully a score of men. The boats contained a large amount of luggage, while a dozen men, one of whom was a negro servant, took turns at the labor.

Since the afternoon was drawing to a close the party came to a pause, and the next minute were looking across the stream at the three youths with their four animals, the riders having dismounted, each party much impressed by sight of the other. At the suggestion of Deerfoot, Victor Shelton acted as spokesman.

"Helloa!" called the lad, "Who are you?"

A man answered in a clear voice:

"This is a United States expedition under Captains Lewis and Clark, on its way to the Pacific Ocean. Who are you?"

"This is an American expedition under Deerfoot the Shawanoe, on its way from the Pacific Ocean."

The man turned and said something to a companion near him. They seemed amused by the reply, and the former speaker called back:

"Won't you join us in camp?"

"We shall be glad to do so. We are hunting for a ford."

"I don't think you will find any. We will send our canoes to you and you can swim your horses over."

"We shall be very much obliged, and shall be glad to stay with you till morning."

A few minutes later two canoes, each in charge of a single man, put out from the southern shore and were paddled across the Missouri to our friends. The luggage was removed from the back of Zigzag and placed in one of the boats, which was so deeply laden that it could carry no one beside the white man. The other was buoyant enough, though severely taxed, to sustain the four. The horses swam beside the boats.

When Deerfoot took his place he said to the white man:

"My brother has worked hard. Will he not let Deerfoot take the paddle?"

"I have no objection," replied the other, with a grin, "if you think you know how to do it better than I."

"No better than my brother, but I hope nearly as well."

"Just watch him," added Victor. "If there's anybody on either side of the Mississippi that can beat that Shawanoe handling a canoe, I'll eat him, boots and all."

Deerfoot had no wish to display his skill, but since it was impossible for him to paddle without doing that he quickly won the admiration of the fellow, who was tired and glad to be relieved from work. He noted the easy grace and slight effort with which the dusky youth drove the craft athwart the current, quickly leaving the other boat behind, and called to his companion:

"Pete, he knows his business! Never seen his like. Hitch your canoe fast and he'll tow you over without using more than one hand and with both eyes shet."

Deerfoot acted as if he did not understand the words, and impelled the craft so accurately that when it touched shore it did so at a point precisely opposite the spot where he and his companions had entered the craft.

While our friends were crossing the Missouri the explorers completed their preparations for the evening. They had toiled hard all day in pulling, pushing and paddling the boats up stream, for there were not many places where progress could be made by any other means. The pirogues were furnished with sails, and now and then a strong favorable wind lightened the toil of the men.

When Deerfoot and the boys stepped out of the boat and came up the low but steep bank, two persons, attired in rough garb resembling that worn by hunters, came forward and cordially received them. The one in advance extended his hand and said:

"I am Captain Meriwether Lewis, and this is my friend, Captain William Clark. We are glad to meet you."

As he spoke he offered his hand to George Shelton, who introduced himself and then his companions.

"This is my twin brother Victor, though he hardly looks it. This is our guide, Deerfoot the Shawanoe."

The two officers welcomed the little party, and Captain Lewis added:

"We should be glad to have you spend several days with us, but you seem to be traveling in the opposite direction."

"Yes," said George, "we are homeward bound, and have been gone so long that we feel in somewhat of a hurry."

"May I ask where your home is?"

"In southern Ohio, at the settlement of Woodvale, near the mouth of the Miami."

"You are a long way from there."

"Yes," Victor took it upon himself to remark, "but we have been a good deal farther."

"When did you leave Woodvale?"

"About a year ago."

"And how far west have you been?"

"Far enough to get a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean."

"That is our destination. We thought we were to be the first white men to make the journey."

"So you will be, for we did not go all the way to the coast. I suppose you will do that?"

"Such are our instructions from President Jefferson."

While this conversation was going on other members of the exploring party gathered round. George had yielded the place of spokesman to his brother, and Deerfoot stood a few paces behind him. He was conscious of the curious scrutiny he was under from several of the members, but he acted as if unaware of it and held his peace. But he, too, was using his eyes and listening to the talk of the leaders, in whom he was much interested.

Victor fancied he detected just a shade of disappointment in the last remark of Captain Lewis, and he hastened to add:

"We amount to nothing. Only two of us belong to your race, and we cannot ask to be considered as men for a few years to come."

"You are husky-looking youngsters," added Captain Clark, from his place beside his associate, as he looked admiringly at the two lads.

"Where did you spend the winter?" continued Lewis.

"In the Blackfoot country, to the northwest. We reached there last autumn and stayed until a few weeks ago."

"I need not ask you if you were well treated, for your looks show that."

"They were all our friends. We should have perished so far north had we not found refuge among them."

"But we are forgetting our hospitality. We will have your horses looked after. Come over by the camp for supper, which will soon be ready. That is the finest horse I ever saw. Which of you is his owner?"

"He belongs to Deerfoot."

"Where did he get him?"

"Last year the Shawanoe's horse was hurt so badly that he had to kill him. Soon after we came across this stallion and Deerfoot managed to capture and tame him."

"He looks as if he might have been the king of a drove."

"He was. The Shawanoe cut him out and conquered him."

Now Deerfoot, while crossing the river, had warned the boys not to indulge in any boasts about him, as you know they were fond of doing. Despite his matchless prowess and skill, he disliked, above everything else, to be paraded before others and to be forced into showing what he was able to do. It was painful to George and Victor to be compelled to suppress their feelings in this way, but they meant to obey their friend, so far as they possibly could.

It was evident that neither Captain Lewis nor Clark nor any of the listeners believed the statement just made by Victor Shelton. The latter glanced at the Shawanoe for permission to explain. Deerfoot wrinkled his brow and shook his head. So the explanation was not made—just then.

The group now sauntered over to the large fire that had been kindled a few rods back from the river bank. Three men were busy preparing the evening meal, the others sauntering here and there, looking after the luggage, a portion of which had been brought ashore. Deerfoot walked over to Whirlwind, who was expecting such attention, and guided him some distance inland, where there was plenty of succulent grass and he could graze apart from the common herd. That equine would never lose his pride until he died. Patting his nose and softly bidding him good-bye, the Shawanoe hastened back to his friends, who had seated themselves on a fallen tree on one side of the fire, while Captains Lewis and Clark were similarly placed opposite. Two of the men were passing around ordinary tin plates, but no knives and no forks were called into use, one's fingers serving in their stead.



The explorers had not suffered from any lack of game. The catfish taken from the river weighed three or four pounds apiece, and several deer, elks and bears had been shot. Among the latter was one belonging to the grizzly species. To show the tenacity of these mammoth brutes, the journal of the explorers records that after the beast had been shot through the heart "he ran at his usual pace nearly a quarter of a mile before he fell." Wild geese were seen in such numbers that their killing often became so easy that it could not be called sport.

By the time our friends had completed their meal night had fully come, and the drop in the temperature made the warmth of the blaze pleasant. A second fire had been started at some distance, where most of the men gathered. Being apart from their leaders, there was more freedom of action and speech. In the course of the evening the boys heard the strains of a violin coming from the other camp, and, turning their heads, saw one of the men seated on a boulder with his head thrown back and vigorously sawing on his fiddle, while his companions were dancing in the open space in front, which was lit up by the firelight. Most of the hardy fellows solemnly swayed their bodies and shuffled back and forth with their arms akimbo, but others were more lively and dashed off jigs, reels and rigadoons. A French voyageur suddenly threw up his heels, supporting himself on his hands, and kept excellent time to the notes of the fiddle.

Neither Lewis nor Clark had ever heard of Deerfoot, but it soon developed that three of their men, Joseph and Reuben Shields and George Shannon, of Kentucky, knew a good deal about him. Shannon was but a boy himself, being only seventeen years old, but had once met the Shawanoe along the Ohio, when he was in the company of Simon Kenton. Deerfoot recalled the incident, and was glad to renew the acquaintance. At the invitation of Shannon he walked with him to the farther camp fire, and became a pleased witness of the boisterous sport of the men.



CHAPTER XXIII.

LEWIS AND CLARK'S EXPEDITION.

With George and Victor Shelton seated on the fallen tree on one side of the camp fire, and Captains Lewis and Clark on the other, these two famous explorers told the story of their expedition, which must always retain an historical interest for all of us.

As early as 1785, while Jefferson was in Paris, he became impressed with the value of the Northwest. This interest increased after his return home, and when he became President he secured an appropriation of twenty-five hundred dollars from Congress for the purpose of defraying the expense of an exploration of the vast region to the northwest of the Mississippi. This appropriation was made in February, 1803.

The area of Louisiana was more than a million square miles, and greater than that of the whole United States as it then existed. It was purchased from France for the sum of fifteen million dollars, the treaty to that effect between the two governments being ratified in the summer of the year named. By this single transaction the dominion of the United States was extended across the whole continent of North America, from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

The exploring party that entered this enormous region was under the command of Captains Meriwether Lewis and William Clark. It will be noted that both of these officers held the same rank. Military law does not permit the anomaly of equal authority, and Clark was really the junior, but in point of fact the rights of the two were the same. They were so considerate toward each other that no difference ever arose, and "the actual command and conduct of the expedition devolved upon each in exactly equal degree."

Lewis belonged to an old Virginia family and early displayed enterprise, boldness and discretion. He won the promotion to a captaincy at the age of twenty-two, and was barely thirty years of age when called to take part in this memorable exploration. Clark was also a native of Virginia, but his childhood had been spent in Kentucky, whither his parents removed. He was a younger brother of the more famous General George Rogers Clark, but for whom the Allegheny Mountains instead of the Mississippi would have been our western boundary after the close of the Revolution. He was about thirty-three years old when he joined Lewis. He possessed excellent qualities, and it may be said that no two persons could have been selected who were better fitted to lead the score and a half of men across the continent.

On July 5, 1803, Captain Lewis left Washington, hoping to gather his men and materials in time to reach La Charrette, the upper white settlement on the Missouri, and there spend the winter. The inevitable delays followed, and the Spanish commandant of the province, not having received official notice of the transfer, would not allow the expedition to pass through the territory. The explorers, therefore, went into camp for the winter at the mouth of the Du Bois River, a little north of St. Louis, on the eastern bank of the Mississippi. This point was left on May 14, 1804. Entering the Indian country the leaders held a council with the Ottoes and Missouris, and by the distribution of gewgaws and presents won the good will of the red men. Lewis and Clark named the place of meeting Council Bluff, which is retained to this day, although the site of the modern city is below the meeting place and on the opposite, side of the river.

For a time the expedition acted the part of peacemaker among the Indians. The officers patched up peace agreements between the tribes that were on the verge of warfare, and made treaties with the Yankton branch of the Sioux and the Ricaras. All these natives were familiar with white men, having known both French traders and the employees of the British Fur Company. The Indians showed a friendly disposition toward the explorers, but their wonder was unbounded at sight of the African servant, he being the first of his race they had ever seen. With the waggery of his nature this negro gravely informed them that he was really a wild animal that had been caught and tamed. The simple folk believed his fantastic yarns, which were emphasized by numerous feats of strength on his part.

Progress up the river was slow, because of the many sand bars and numerous curves of the stream. The hunters, who kept in advance, secured large quantities of fresh meat, and dried a good deal for the winter supply. The region of the Mandans was reached in the latter part of October. There a fort was built and occupied during the winter. This was in what is now McLean County, North Dakota. The winter was very severe, and many of the men had their hands and feet frostbitten, while the continual glare of the snow caused a temporary blindness.

At this fort another interpreter was engaged. He was a Canadian, whose wife was a member of the Snake tribe of Indians of the Rocky Mountains. She was stolen when a child and brought east, where she was bought by the Canadian, who made her his wife. She was a remarkable woman, and the only one of her sex who accompanied the party. When she set out she carried an infant barely two months old. She not only stood the journey as well as any of the men, but displayed a rare degree of intelligence. She remembered much of the wild region through which the party had to pass, and smoothed the way among her own race for the white invaders. She became very popular with all the members, and deserved the praise which the leaders gave her.

Six canoes were soon completed. The company made their start April 7, 1805, sixteen going down stream with a barge laden with curiosities of the region for President Jefferson, while thirty-two formed the permanent party, which pressed into the great unknown region spreading out before them. The names of all these explorers are preserved in the archives of the War Department under the title of "A roll of the men who accompanied Captains Lewis and Clark on their late tour to the Pacific Ocean through the interior of the continent of North America, showing their rank, with some remarks on their respective merits and services."

Early as was the season, the men suffered much from mosquitoes. Spring kept company with the expedition. Herds of deer, elk, buffaloes and antelopes were seen grazing on the rich grass, and there seemed no end to swans and geese. Passing the alkali regions, the party reached, in the latter part of April, the mouth of a large river, to which they gave the name of Yellowstone. Joseph Fields, of Kentucky, ascended it for eight miles, and was the first white man to do so. Rains, high winds and cold weather welcomed them into the hills of Montana, and often the boats had to be dragged along the banks by means of elk-skin cords. They were thus laboriously making their way when, as has been shown, they were met by Deerfoot and the Shelton brothers at the mouth of the Musselshell River.

The story of the Lewis and Clark expedition, therefore, ended for George and Victor Shelton at the point named. It will not be uninteresting, however, to sum up the history of one of the most memorable enterprises connected with the development of the West. Captains Lewis and Clark gained a great deal of valuable knowledge from the boys, who had traversed a large part of the region which they intended to explore. The excellent memories and the marked intelligence of the youths were admired by the officers.

A few days after the meeting between the two parties Lewis climbed to the top of the highest elevation north of the river and gained his first view of the Rocky Mountains, known at that time as the Stony Mountains. All the numerous streams were described and named. It has been charged against the explorers that they were lacking in sentiment and imagination, for most of the names thus given by them have been supplanted by others, but it cannot be said that these changes have always been an improvement.

On the second day of summer the explorers had to face a puzzling problem. A large branch flowing from the north was so similar to the Missouri that it seemed it must be that river, while the one hitherto accepted as such bore to the south. Which was the branch that, according to the reports of the Indians, had its rise in the Rocky Mountains, near the source of the Columbia? To settle the question the party divided, one ascending either branch. Upon reuniting it was agreed that the south branch was the real Missouri. The northern stream was named the Maria. This was another of the few instances in which the title given by the explorers stuck.

The rapids five miles below the Falls of the Missouri were reached on June 15. These had to be passed by a portage. An idea can be formed of the great difficulties encountered when it is stated that, although the portage was hardly eighteen miles long, it took eleven days to make it. The men, however, were in high spirits, and at night Peter Cruzatte added to the "gayety of nations" by playing on his violin.

About the middle of August horses were obtained from the tribe from which the Indian wife of the interpreter had been stolen. The passage through the mountains or over the Divide caused the greatest suffering of the expedition. The men had to cut their way in many places through the brush, clamber over jagged stones and climb such precipitous walls that several of their horses were crippled. Then snow began falling and the nights became very cold. Game seemed to have deserted the country, and the sufferers had to eat all their supply of flour and parched corn. Beginning with September 14, they were obliged to kill and eat some of their horses, and even at that had to be very sparing or the supply would have been exhausted.

Descending the western side of the mountains, however, they found abundant edible roots, dried salmon and dried berries at the Indian villages. The famishing men feasted so ravenously that most of them became ill. New canoes were constructed, and leaving their horses with a chief they started down the Clearwater and reached the Columbia on October 16. Ten days were occupied in making the portage of the falls and rapids, and on the morning of November 7, when the fog lifted, they saw in the distance the Pacific Ocean.

A month later the party went into winter quarters. It rained eternally, the weather was chilly and their condition for a long time was miserable in the extreme. The shelter built for themselves was called Fort Clatsop. There they remained until March 23, 1806, when the explorers set out on their return journey. They had to face difficulties, hardships and sufferings again, but they had learned from experience and were better prepared to do so. They embarked on the Yellowstone July 24, and ten days later reached its junction with the Missouri. At this point the men were driven almost frantic by the mosquitoes. At midday, September 23, 1806, they arrived at St. Louis, where the whole town turned out to welcome them. There the party was disbanded, and, passing to their various destinations, the Lewis and Clark expedition took its place in history.

During the latter part of the chat between Lewis and Clark, Deerfoot came quietly forward and sat down beside the Shelton boys. He listened closely to all that was said. When the officers asked questions, the Shawanoe left the answers to the brothers. But more than once they were in doubt, and turned to him for aid. His prompt response in every instance was noticed by the officers, who, after a time, addressed their questions almost wholly to him.

Finally, at a late hour, the visitors wrapped themselves in their blankets and stretched out on the ground, with their feet turned toward the blaze. The explorers always maintained a watch, for though they felt no fear of the Indians they were subject to unpleasant visits, as in the case when a bison swam a river and went plunging like a steam engine through the camp. Moreover, the men had seen enough of the grizzly bear to hold him in respectful awe, and they did not intend to have any of the brutes steal a march upon them.

The morning was clear and pleasant, and the explorers were astir at an early hour. A breakfast was made from catfish and goose, and a cordial farewell took place. The boys wished Captains Lewis and Clark the best of fortune, and Lewis complimented them, and especially Deerfoot, for the information they had given him of the region through which they expected to force their way. In return, Lewis advised his guests to bear directly to the south and not to follow the course of the Missouri, as he and his company had done. In fact, it would have been absurd for the three to adopt any other plan. They could make no use of the current because they had no boats, and if they procured them from the Indians they could not be made to carry the horses. The distance was much greater by the Lewis and Clark route, which held no attractions to our friends. When, therefore, Victor Shelton told Captain Lewis that his advice would be followed, he said that which had been determined upon before the meeting of the two parties.



CHAPTER XXIV.

OVERBOARD.

Our friends, after parting with the Lewis and Clark expedition, pressed southward, in search of a milder climate and a more direct route to their homes. They were traversing a region broken by many streams, detached mountain spurs and ranges of lofty elevation. Black Butte, as it is known to-day, in Dawson County, Montana, was left on the left, after which they rode through the valley of Little Porcupine Creek to the Yellowstone, which was crossed with considerable difficulty. Turning more to the east, they passed the rough, precipitous section, the scene many years afterward of the appalling Custer massacre, and now an immense Indian reservation, and, entering the present State of Wyoming, skirted the foothills of the well-known Big Horn range. Here the scenery was of the grandest character. Had the party not been accustomed for months to such impressive exhibitions of the majesty of nature, they could have spent weeks of enjoyment where the like is found in few parts of the world. They pushed on, however, not making what might be termed a real halt until they came to the Laramie Mountains, almost the equal of the former in picturesque beauty.

By this time the unremitting hard work began to tell upon the horses. Zigzag showed slight lameness, and Jack, the animal ridden by George Shelton, surely needed rest. Only Whirlwind continued as powerful, active and fresh as ever. Deerfoot and the boys always walked a number of miles each day, not only for the sake of the horses, but to gain the exercise each needed. Deerfoot ran races with Whirlwind, who was inconsiderate enough to beat him every time. Sometimes they frolicked like a couple of boys. The Shawanoe delighted to tease the noble creature, who delighted to have him do so. One habit of the youth was to pretend he was offended with the stallion. He would turn his back upon him and repel his advances toward a reconciliation. Whirlwind would poke his nose first over one shoulder and then the other, rubbing it against the cheek of Deerfoot. If the latter sulked too long, Whirlwind would show his impatience by flirting his head against that of the youth, whirling about, kicking up his heels and galloping off. No words could have said more plainly:

"I don't care. Pout all you want to. I shan't coax you any more. I haven't much opinion of you anyway."

And then Deerfoot had to make peace with his offended majesty. But the stallion never held off long, and George and Victor laughed at the antics of the couple.

The halt of which I have spoken was made one afternoon, near the southern end of the Laramie range. No more favorable spot could have been selected, for the grass was abundant and of the best quality. A stream of considerable size issued from the mountains and flowing northeast joined the North Platte, a hundred miles away, and there was enough timber to yield all the fuel needed. The horses were unsaddled and unbridled, the pack removed from the back of Zigzag and the three owners were at liberty to do whatever they chose to pass away the hours. It was so late that they stayed in camp till morning, when it was decided to set off on a hunt, Deerfoot going by himself, while the brothers, as usual, kept company.

There had hardly been a day since parting from Lewis and Clark that our friends had not seen Indians or signs of them. Sometimes it was the smoke of their camp fires in the distance, and then they caught sight of a band of horsemen, who might number three or four or five times as many warriors. It was the rule of Deerfoot to avoid coming in contact with these wanderers, so long as he could do so without rousing their suspicion by his actions. While in a general way the strangers could be counted upon as friendly, they contained a ratio of lawless if not desperate characters, who were liable to be tempted by the hope of plunder. Whirlwind was quite sure to attract envious eyes. Moreover, the party was now in a region which was visited, more or less, by trappers and hunters in the employ of fur companies, or who operated independently. The majority of these men were rough and reckless of the rights of others. They had little faith in the Golden Rule where Indians were concerned, and affrays between them and the native inhabitants were numerous. Many a white man who went into the mountains never came out again. He fell a victim to his own wrongdoing and received the fate he had invited so long. Others succeeded in getting through the lines with their pack animals laden with peltries, to St. Louis, to return again the following autumn and to face and overcome, or possibly fail to overcome, the perils they had met so often.

The sun was shining from a clear, balmy sky, for summer had come, when Deerfoot swept every portion of the visible horizon with the spyglass without detecting a sign of red men. To the westward towered the immense Laramie range, while the plains stretched eastward and were crossed by numerous streams, on whose banks thriving towns and cities have been built in later days. Less than a hundred miles to the southeast was the site of the present city of Cheyenne.

Before reaching the scene of this encampment the travelers had twice come within range of grizzly bears. The first was ignored, but the second did not choose to be passed by in such cavalier fashion. He first appeared close to camp, much to the terror of the horses, and then deliberately proceeded to attack everything in sight. He came within a hair, too, of killing Zigzag and Prince before he was brought low by the bullets of all three, Deerfoot burying two in the colossal carcass.

Black and cinnamon bears were observed, but no disturbance followed on the part of men or brutes. Several times the wolves, coyotes and pumas became so troublesome that a number were killed. Bison were so plentiful that hardly a day passed without sight of them. In some instances the droves contained tens of thousands.

George and Victor Shelton soon found themselves climbing among the foothills. Deerfoot had gone in another direction, the agreement being that they should return to camp soon after meridian, and not to go far from headquarters. While none felt misgiving as to danger, all had learned to be circumspect.

It may be said that the stroll of the boys was as much to gain exercise as to hunt game, though the latter object was the one avowed by them. In those days a person did not have to look far for such sport, but it seemed as if the wild animals scented the danger and kept out of the way. When noon came the tired boys sat down beside a mountain torrent, without either having fired his rifle.

"We haven't heard the report of Deerfoot's gun," said George, "and I don't see that there is any use of hunting further."

"Nor do I. I'm hungry and we shan't be able to get anything to eat this side of camp. It must be the game noticed that I was with you, and they have all run to their holes."

"We have one consolation," remarked George, ignoring the last sentence. "It will be easier getting back to camp, for it's down hill all the way."

"But we shall have a good deal of climbing to do. I'm ready to say I've gained enough exercise to last me till to-morrow. I think," added Victor, rising to his feet and looking at the noisy torrent a few feet in front, "that we can shorten the distance by crossing that."

"How are we going to do it? We're not likely to find it bridged."

"I'm sure we shall be able to leap across."

The two walked to the edge of the stream, which may be described as a furious torrent, rushing between the rocks, which were separated by a dozen feet, the upper margin being one or two feet above the surface of the stream. Standing on the edge of the small canyon and looking down, the boys saw that the water was of crystalline clearness and was beaten in many places into froth and foam, which sparkled with every color of the rainbow as it shot into the sunlight. The course of the torrent was so tortuous and the turns so abrupt that clouds of mist curled upward in places and caused the rocks to drip with moisture. The roar was so loud that the brothers had to shout to each other.

"We might make a running leap here," said George, "but it isn't worth while to take the risk."

"There must be narrower portions. Let's look."

Turning to the left, they had to go only a little way when they found a favorable place. The breadth was no more than seven or eight feet. While they could not shorten the distance to camp very much, the advantage was worth striving for.

"No risk in that," remarked Victor, looking at his brother, who nodded his head to signify he agreed with him.

"I'll jump first," added Victor, walking back several paces to gain the necessary start. He could have made the leap without this preparation, but was using only ordinary prudence. George stood to one side and close to the edge, so as to observe every phase of the performance. Despite the apparent safety of the attempt, a strange misgiving came over George, and he turned to his brother to protest, when he saw he had started on his brief run. He carried his rifle in his right hand, took a number of short steps, measuring the distance with his eye, so that the take-off should be exact, and covered the space in a second or two.

George was watching every movement of the supple limbs, when he uttered an exclamation of horror. At the very moment Victor was gathering his muscles for the leap, and when close to the edge, the dripping stone caused his foot to slip. He fell sideways, let go of his rifle, which shot over the edge, and desperately struggled to check himself. Had there been five seconds at command he would have been saved. George, who made the attempt, could have dashed forward and grasped a foot or leg. Victor could have stopped, but the rock on which he had fallen seemed to be covered with plumbago. While frantically clutching and vainly trying to grasp some obstruction that would overcome his momentum, he slid over the edge and dropped into the boiling cauldron below. The accident was begun and finished, as may be said, in the twinkling of an eye.

Wild with affright, George ran to the edge of the torrent and peered over. He caught a glimpse of his brother a dozen yards away, spinning down the torrent. He saw his head for a moment, and then his arms thrown upward, as he disappeared, blindly but vainly struggling to save himself. In an instant he was whirled round a bend in the canyon, his body flung aloft by the resistless force of the torrent, but hurled hither and thither, as helpless as a log of wood.

Frantic and hardly conscious of what he was doing, George dashed along the edge of the canyon, which sped faster than he could run. One moment he was on the point of leaping into the raging waters in the blind effort to save Victor, but the certainty that that would only add another victim held him in restraint, and he continued running, stumbling and praying in agony for Heaven to intercede while it was yet time.

Suddenly he saw a man standing on the other side of the canyon some rods below, and staring wonderingly at him. George raised his voice so that it pierced the uproar like the notes of a trumpet:

"Save him! Save him! He fell into the water!"



CHAPTER XXV.

JACK HALLOWAY AGAIN.

The man was quick-witted. The words and the frenzied gestures told a story which he understood. Standing close to the edge of the stream, he peered into it and caught sight of a white face, loosely flapping limbs and the helpless drift of a human being, borne toward him with the speed of a race horse. The top of the bank was so near the surface that the man dropped on his face, so as to be able to reach forward and downward to the foaming torrent.

He saw the body coming, and braced himself for the herculean effort that would be necessary in the next breath. Reaching so far that he was in danger of losing his own balance, he coolly awaited the critical moment. Then his big hand closed like the paw of a grizzly bear on the shoulder of Victor Shelton. A tremendous wrench and he was dragged out and dropped limp and senseless at the feet of his rescuer.

George Shelton saw this much, and, hardly knowing what he was doing, made a desperate effort to leap the chasm, that he might join the couple. But his foot slipped, too, and only by a superhuman effort did he save himself from tumbling into the swirling wrath of water. Scrambling to his feet, he sped downward to Victor and the stranger. The latter showed his coolness by getting to work without the least delay. Victor was senseless and had swallowed a good deal of water. He seemed to be drowned.

The man held him by the heels and was standing him on his head. Then he rolled him over and pressed his chest, with that oscillation which is helpful in restoring seemingly drowned persons, while the breathless George stood idly by watching everything with straining eyes. He could do nothing but pray and hope.

At the end of a minute or two he saw, with joy unspeakable, the signs of returning life. Victor was on his back, as if dead, when he partly opened his eyes; but there was no expression in them. His rescuer was scrutinizing the lad's face and noted the awakening of consciousness. Straightening up, he said with a sigh:

"He's all right now; but he couldn't have come nigher pegging out."

"You have saved him! You have saved him! Oh, how can I thank you?"

And yielding to the reaction, George sobbed like a child. The stranger looked at him without speaking, and gave his attention again to the prostrate form. Victor speedily regained his senses, and, with a little help from the man, sat up. He stared wonderingly at his new friend and then at his brother, striving manfully to master his emotions. With the waggery that cropped up at the most unexpected times, he turned to George with the question:

"Are you crying because he saved my life?"

"I'm crying for joy. I had given up all hope."

"So had I. I tell you I came pretty near being a goner. Please help me up."

George took his hand and almost lifted Victor to his feet. As he came up he made a grimace, because of the pain that wrenched him. He was so battered and bruised that the wonder was that several bones had not been broken.

"Where's my rifle?" suddenly asked Victor, looking about him.

"In the bottom of the canyon, I reckon."

"Mebbe you'd like to make a dive for it," suggested the man.

"No, I've had enough of that. How shall I thank you for what you have done?"

"By not saying anything about it. By a piece of good luck I happened to be on the spot in time to give you a lift."

The boys now looked more closely at the Good Samaritan. He was attired in the dress common among the trappers and hunters of the Northwest in those days, and was a magnificent specimen of physical manhood, being fully six feet in height, with a broad, massive frame and an immense grizzled beard, which flowed over his chest and covered his face almost to the eyes. He had laid down his long, formidable rifle when he hurried to the rescue of the boy, and he now stooped and picked up the weapon. Moving back a few paces, so as to get beyond the noise made by the rushing waters, he said, in his gruff but not unpleasant voice:

"Tell me how this thing happened."

George briefly gave the particulars of the mishap, to which the man silently listened.

"You ain't the only younker or man either who has lost all by a little slip. The next time you want to make a big jump be sure of your footing. What are you two chaps doing in this part of the world?"

"We have been across the continent, almost to the Pacific, and are now on the way to our home in Ohio."

"You ain't traveling alone, are you?"

"No; we have a companion, who is off somewhere in the mountains, but will soon join us in camp."

"'Pears to me you've been on a powerful long tramp."

"We have. We spent last winter among the Blackfeet, and are homesick."

"I reckon your camp ain't fur off, and we may as well go there."

"We shall be glad to have you with us, for you have proved the best of friends."

"Thar! Thar! Drop that; talk about something else."

When Victor tried to walk he had to lean on the shoulder of his brother, and the pain from his bruises compelled him at times to stop and rest. The burly trapper offered to help, but Victor thanked him and got on quite well with the assistance of George. The man walked a few paces behind the two, that he might not hurry them too much, and because it belonged to the boys to act as guide.

"Who is the man you've got with you?"

"He is a young Shawanoe Indian named Deerfoot," replied George Shelton.

"What!" exclaimed the trapper, stopping as if shot. "Do you mean that handsome young warrior who went through the country below us last summer with a Blackfoot redskin and two younkers?"

"The same. We are the boys that were with him."

"Wal, I'll be skulped!" added the other, as if he could not do justice to his feelings. "I never dreamed of anything like that."

"Like what?" asked George.

"Seeing that Shawanoe agin. Say, he's a great one, ain't he?"

"You know him, then?"

"Wal, I reckon. He done me the greatest favor of my life—greater than what I done that chap of yourn a little while ago."

"I don't see how that can be," remarked the limping Victor; "but Deerfoot is always doing good to others."

"Didn't he ever tell you anything about me?"

"You haven't told us your name."

"I'm Jack Halloway."

The boys agreed that they had never heard the Shawanoe mention him by name. Victor added:

"He is the last one to speak of his good deeds, and he doesn't like to hear anyone else speak of them."

"He'll hear some one talk when I see him," chuckled the trapper, with a shaking of his herculean shoulders.

Because of Victor's hurts the descent among the foothills to camp took a long time, and the afternoon was well gone when the three reached headquarters. While a little way off the three caught sight of the Shawanoe, who had started a fire and was broiling buffalo steak for supper. He looked with surprise at the sight of Victor leaning on the shoulder of his brother and walking with difficulty, and at the towering form behind them. Ceasing his work, he came forward to greet the party. He paid no attention to the man until George Shelton told of the mishap in which the life of Victor was saved by the person behind them.

During this brief interchange the trapper kept in the background, with his eyes on the Shawanoe. Needless to say, Deerfoot had recognized him at the first glance. Not suspecting this, the man now came forward, the moving of the beard about his mouth showing that he was grinning and chuckling.

"I reckon you don't remember me, Deerfoot."

"Deerfoot could never forget his brother, Jack Halloway," replied the youth, extending his hand, which was warmly grasped by the trapper.

"I'm powerful glad to meet you agin, Shawanoe, though I hadn't much hope of ever doing so. Talk about friends, you beat 'em all, and I'll be skulped if you don't look handsomer than ever—no you don't, for that couldn't be. Shake agin, pardner."

Deerfoot was as pleased to meet his old acquaintance as the latter was to see him. All seated themselves on the ground about the blaze, and as night had not yet come the meal was deferred until more was learned of what had taken place during the interval between the former meeting and the present coming together.

"Why is my brother in the mountains at this season of the year?" asked Deerfoot, when the trapper had lit his pipe.

Of course cold weather is the time for trapping fur-bearing animals. The custom in the olden days was for the hunters to go into the mountains in the autumn, spend the time until spring in gathering peltries, and then bring them to civilization for sale. It was now summer, and it was not to be supposed that Jack Halloway was engaged on professional business in the Laramie Mountains. He explained:

"Last fall I took a partner—Dick Burley by name—and we put in the winter among the beaver runs and mountains over to the northwest. We done so poor that I let Dick start with the pack animals for St. Louis, without me going with him. He hadn't more than half a load, and we made up our minds that we'd got to find new trapping grounds or we shouldn't make enough to pay for our salt. So me and Dick parted and I've been on the tramp for two months."

"How did you make out?" asked Victor, who, having found an easy position for his aching body, felt it his duty to join in the discussion.

"I hit it when I came to this part of the country. A few miles south are hundreds of beaver, foxes, otter and other critters whose furs we're after. I don't think a single one of 'em has ever been trapped. There's where me and Dick will try it next fall."

"Then you will soon go home?"

"I intended to start to-morrow. My horse is a little way back among the foothills, stuffing himself with enough grass to last him a week."

"My brother will go with us," said the pleased Deerfoot.

"If you don't feel too proud to have me for company, I'll be mighty glad to go with you."

"Nothing will suit us better," said George, heartily. It was natural that he and Victor should feel profoundly grateful to the trapper. Even had he not done them so measureless a service they would have liked him from the first.

It was not until the night had fully come, the evening meal eaten and the fire replenished, though the weather remained mild, that a full interchange took place among the different members of the little party. Victor suffered less from his bruises, and with his blanket wrapped about his shoulders showed no effects from his terrifying adventure. The horses were left to themselves, Jack Halloway saying that no attention need be given to his, despite the possibility of some thieving Indian making off with him. The trapper expressed unbounded admiration of Whirlwind, and could not understand how Deerfoot had ever gained such a piece of property. George and Victor did not dare to explain in the presence of the Shawanoe, but each determined to do so on the first opportunity, despite the risk of another "disciplining" at the hands of the modest youth.

After Jack had smoked awhile and the chat had gone on without any special point, he turned to the Shawanoe and said:

"I've seen you stealing a look at me now and then and I know what you done it for."

"Yes, Deerfoot did so; but my brother cannot tell the reason."

"You've been trying to find out from my looks whether I've stuck to the pledge I made you a year ago to give up drinking whiskey."

"That was the reason; Deerfoot was almost but not quite certain."

"Have you any doubts left?"

The Shawanoe smiled.

"Only a shadow."

"Wal, you can kick that shadow out of sight! I haven't drank a drop of the stuff since that night, a year ago, when I flung my flask into the creek, after hearing your sermon, that shook me down to my toes."

Deerfoot leaned over and offered his hand again to happy Jack Halloway, who turned to the boys.

"Being as he never told you, I might as well give you the story."

Thereupon the trapper related in his characteristic fashion the incident of which you heard long ago. The eyes of the boys kindled and Victor said:

"That is only one of a hundred things Deerfoot has done."

Catching a warning look from the Shawanoe, Victor said in desperation:

"I'm not going to try to give a list, Deerfoot, but won't you let me tell Jack how you whipped the greatest war chief of the Blackfeet and how he became a Christian?"

"There is no need of that, but my brothers may tell what happened to them when they disobeyed Deerfoot."

"I'll do that if you don't shut down on the other story."

The Shawanoe would have refused, but the trapper's curiosity had been stirred and he insisted upon hearing of the incident. As a compromise the Indian youth rose to his feet and sauntered out to where Whirlwind was still cropping the juicy herbage. He would not stay and listen to what he knew was about to be said. The boys were glad to have him absent, for it left them free to speak what they pleased, and you may be sure that Victor and George did not mince matters. Their account of that remarkable combat and its results was told with graphic eloquence. Then George added the story of Deerfoot's encounter with the grizzly bear and his defeat of the Assiniboine, whose life he spared. Inasmuch as the boys had never been able to draw the particulars of that combat from Deerfoot, Victor had to embellish it with his own imagination, and he did it to perfection. He was in the midst of a description of how the Shawanoe beat the best marksmen, runners and leapers of the Blackfeet when Deerfoot came back to the camp fire.

"Now let my brothers tell of what happened to them when Deerfoot was through with Taggarak."

"You needn't worry; I didn't forget that. Well, Jack, you see Deerfoot forbade me and George to come anywhere near, but we couldn't stay away. He found it out, cut a big gad and splintered it over our shoulders and we couldn't help ourselves."

And then Jack Halloway threw back his head and roared with laughter, declaring that he had never heard so good a story.



CHAPTER XXVI.

A TEMPERANCE AGITATOR.

"I'll never forget that ride home last year," said Jack Halloway, "after I pulled out in the night and left Deerfoot with you younkers asleep by the camp fire. It took me a week to reach St. Louis, and there wasn't a drop of whiskey to be had on the road. For two or three days I was the most miserable critter that ever limped on two legs. I'd have give my whole load of peltries to get that flask back agin, but there was no help for it. Twice I rode up to the camp fires of Injins, hoping to buy some fire water from them, but neither party had a drop. Then I buckled down to it.

"On the fourth night when I camped I was almost crazy. As I rolled about in my blanket, not able to sleep a wink, I remembered what Deerfoot had said to me about praying. Strange I'd never thought of it before. Wal, I got on my knees, and if ever a poor wretch prayed it was Jack Halloway, and I kept it up for two or three hours. I was about ready to let go when the thing which I was praying for came to me!

"Just as plain as I have heard your voices, I catched the words, 'It's all right; you've conquered your temptation; you're boss now.' Some folks may laugh, but it won't do for 'em to say where Jack Halloway can hear 'em that thar's nothing in the Christian religion. I know better, 'cause I've got it right there!" exclaimed the trapper, thumping his heart.

"From that time forward everything was rosy with me. The sun never shone so bright, the birds never sung so sweet and I never felt so happy through and through. I shouted and yelled for joy and walloped the horses, just because I couldn't help it. If I had met anyone at those times he would have set me down as drunk. So I was—drunk with pure joy and religion.

"At St. Louis I sold my peltries for the biggest price I've got in ten years. I took the money home and throwed it into the lap of my little, sweet, gray-haired mother, who just stared at me, not knowing what it meant. When I made it all clear she began crying, and then she dropped on her knees and I dropped alongside of her, and when she got through praying I took up the job and kept things humming for another half hour. After I'd let up I grabbed her in my arms, and we danced about that cabin, just as she used to do when she was the belle of the town, and we laughed and frolicked and made a couple of fools of ourselves.

"When she asked me to tell her the meaning of my short rein-up and change of my life, I give her the whole thing. It was the work of a young Shawanoe Injin called Deerfoot, who was the most ginooine Christian on either side of the old Mississippi. She asked all about you, Deerfoot, and she said she hoped she would meet you some day. So when we get back to St. Louis I'll introduce you."

"Deerfoot will be glad to see the mother of my brother," softly replied the Shawanoe, in a voice tremulous with feeling. He and the boys listened with absorbed interest to the graphic story told by the trapper.

"French Pete keeps the worst whiskey hole along the Mississippi. It is down by the river side and is the main drinking place in the town. He has got hundreds of dollars from the families of the trappers who come down the river in the spring, and for years he has gathered in about every cent I could rake together.

"Wal, after I had been home about a week I strolled down to his place one moonlight night. I told mother not to worry about me, for I would blow my own head off before I'd ever swaller another drop of red p'ison. When I opened the door of the ramshackle cabin, Pete looked up with a grin, and said as how he was wondering where I'd kept myself so long, for he had heerd I'd got back and done unusual well. He was glad to welcome me, and asked what I'd have and the treat was on him for old friendship's sake.

"There didn't happen to be anybody else in the place at the time, for it was early in the evening. I walked up to the bar and leaned on it familiar like, and asked Pete if he didn't think he'd made enough money in ruining other folks to quit the bus'ness. He showed he didn't know what I meant by the strange question. I then said I'd stopped the foolery for good, and give him my opinion of him as the worst wretch in town. He had sot out the whiskey bottle on the bar and shoved out the cork with his thumb and forefinger. I 'spose that was to let me get a whiff of the stuff. I got it. I reached out my hand, pushed the cork back in the bottle, and then grabbing it by the neck brought it down on the bar with a bang that broke it into a dozen pieces and sent the whiskey flying about the room.

"When Pete seed what I was up to he made a swipe at me, remarking several swear words at the same time, but I landed him one under the ear that sent him back so hard aginst the bottles behind him that he bounced forward agin, and I grabbed him.

"He made just the sort of club I wanted. You see I had him by the shoulders and I could swing his heels free and easy like. Wal, I used him that way. For the next ten or fifteen minutes the only music in that place was the panting of Pete and the crash and smash of bottles. The fumes of the stuff filled the room like the mist you sometimes see rising from a kenyon in the mountains. When I got through I don't believe there was a whole bottle left, and as I stepped about the floor I splashed in whiskey, just as we do when the Mississippi overflows the streets. I tossed Pete over into one corner, and, not seeing any more blessed work to do, passed out the door. I met two friends on their way for a drink. When they said good evening I remarked off-hand that they'd find plenty of whiskey inside without asking for it, and went on to my home.

"I expected Pete would make a row about what I'd done and I would be catched in the biggest kind of a row, but there ain't much law in St. Louis just now, on account of the change from Spanish rule to French and then to American. Besides, Pete hasn't got many friends, and I reckon he knew he wouldn't get much sympathy. He rigged up his place after awhile and laid in a new stock of p'ison, but it'll take a long time for him to make up the losses that follered his inviting Jack Halloway to have a drink. Shawanoe," added the trapper, abruptly turning to the Indian, "I want to ask you a question."

"Deerfoot will be glad to answer if he can."

"When I went down to French Pete's place and smashed things and cleaned it out, as I've been stating, did I do right?"

Instead of directly answering, the Shawanoe asked:

"Has the conscience of my brother ever whispered to him that he did wrong in breaking the whiskey bottles?"

"No, I rather think it's the other way. When I started home I felt my conscience clapping me on the shoulder and saying, 'You hit it right that time, old fellow,' and ever since, when I think of it, I hear the same soft words."

There was a twinkle in the eyes of Deerfoot as he gently replied:

"My brother should always do what his conscience tells him to do."

"Good! That settles it! But I've got something more interesting than all that to tell you. If French Pete didn't do anything to me for what I'd done to him, he laid a deep plan to get his revenge. You see he's afraid to tackle me in the open, for I may say there ain't a man living that Jack Halloway is afeard of—barring one."

"Who is he?" asked Victor Shelton, slyly nudging his brother.

"Deerfoot the Shawanoe."

The face of the Indian flushed and he protested:

"Deerfoot would be only a pappoose in the hands of my brother."

"P'raps, but you'd never be in his hands. I've studied your build and quickness, and the chap that can whip a Blackfoot war chief without using a weapon is the best fellow in the world to let alone—I beg pardon, Deerfoot. I'll drop it.

"When it was getting time for me to think about going to the beaver runs agin Dick Burley come to me and proposed that we should be pardners. Dick is a good fellow and I always liked him, for he hasn't a streak of yaller in his make-up. The only objection to him was that he liked firewater too well. He spent enough money at French Pete's to support that rogue. Dick's wife and two children were in rags, and the poor woman had to work herself almost to death to keep from starving. I had talked with Dick many times, not neglecting to give him a good cussing now and then, but it didn't amount to nothing. In the hope of being able to do him good I agreed to go with him to the Northwest.

"Wal, you wouldn't 'spicion what a trick French Pete and Dick was trying to play on me. It was the idea of Pete, but Dick promised to do his part. Pete agreed to let Dick have a whole keg of his best—or rather worst—whiskey without charging him a cent. He was to take it with us, with the sole purpose of getting me into the habit of drinking again. Their ca'clation was that when we got away up in the Northwest, where it was sometimes cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey, and Dick took his swigs reg'lar like, I'd be sure to knock under and jine him. I couldn't stand it to see him enj'ying such bliss and telling what a lot of good it done him.

"I never spicioned anything of the kind, but when I set eyes on that keg stored among the things on our pack horses I fixed my plan of campaign. Being as it was meant to last four or five months-it wouldn't do for Dick to draw on it too heavy at the start. Then, too, as I said, he expected me to come in on the chorus, and he was saving up for that glad day.

"Every time Dick took a drink, which I must say waren't often, of course he invited me to jine, but when I said no, that was enough and he let me alone. Oh, he was shrewd, and was playing his cards like a boss of the game.

"Wal, we had only one brush with the Injins, and we got to the place we had fixed on without any harm, and with most of the whiskey still in the keg. It was where I had been doing my trapping for several years before I went further South, which was the reason I happened to meet you in that part of the world last summer.

"We set our traps as usual, turned our horses out to grass and stowed our blankets and things in a big holler tree, in which I had cut a door, with a buffalo skin that hung down in front. The first thing Dick carried in was the whiskey keg. 'I think more of that,' he remarked, as he sot it down tender like, as if it was a sick baby, 'than everything else in the outfit.' I made no reply, but I was busy thinking, and when he wa'nt looking I done some chuckling and laughing that would have made him open his eyes had he knowed of it.

"One night when Dick was sleeping particular sound I sneaked out of the holler tree with the keg. I had to be powerful careful, for we folks larn to sleep light, but I managed it without waking him. Having made up my mind long before what I would do, I didn't make any mistake. Raising the cask, with the stuff jingling and sploshing about inside, I brought it down on the p'int of a rock with a force that made it split open like a watermelon. In a few minutes every drop had soaked into the ground and it was a thousand miles to French Pete in St. Louis.

"I had to tell Dick the truth the next morning. The minute he opened his eyes he went for his morning dram. I remarked that we didn't need whiskey in them parts, and being as I had become a temperance man it was agin my principles to have any of the p'ison around.

"Wal, Dick was that mad he turned white. When he realized that there was no way of his getting a drink for months he collapsed. Then he roused up and said as how the insult, being a mortal one, we'd have to settle it outside. I was looking for something of that kind and replied that I was agreeable.

"Dick's idea was that we should use our knives and to keep to it till one was killed or he hollered 'Enough!' which neither of us would do to save his life. I said the best plan would be to use our fists. A duel with knives was liable to be over sudden, while a fist-fight would last much longer, and therefore give both more enjoyment. It wouldn't be any trouble for him as got the upper hand to pound the other to death, and being as the whole thing would be in doubt till it was over, the advantage in the way of real happiness was obvious.

"After some argument Dick seed the p'int, and agreed, and we went at it. Wal, I needn't dwell on the partic'lars. Dick put up a stiff fight, and might have give me a good deal of trouble if it hadn't been that he was weakened by whiskey, while I had long got rid of the effects of the last drop. He had to knock under, and when he found the only way to save himself was to yell 'Enough!' he done it, though, as I said, he would have held out if he had been using knives.

"I rested from pummeling him, but told him he couldn't get up till he had told the Lord what a mean scamp he was and had asked His forgiveness and promised to try to live a Christian. Dick wasn't expecting anything like that, and he b'iled over with rage. But it did no good, and I banged him agin, good and hard, and told him I never would stop till he knocked under.

"I had to soothe him a good while before he give in. He said he would do as I wished and then I let him up. He wanted to wait till night, but I wouldn't allow it, and he went down on his knees and sailed in. I made him pray out loud, so as to be sure he put things in right shape. Now, Deerfoot, tell me whether I managed that job right."

The Shawanoe was puzzled, for the trapper had submitted a new phase of the most interesting question to him. But Deerfoot was shrewd.

"Let my brother finish his story."

"Oh, the job came out all right. Dick was sulky and ugly for a few days, though I made him stick to his prayers every morning and night. But bye and bye, when the whiskey got out of him, he begun to improve. One day he laughed, but was so scared by it that he didn't speak till night. Soon after that he told me he felt a good deal better, which the same I replied was because he was getting over the long drunk he had been on for a dozen years.