"Deerfoot, the Shawanoe," was the reply of Otto, who, with a light
heart, stepped closer to the edge of the swiftly flowing river and
called out:

"Holloa, Deerfoot! How you vos?"

The mention of the name called up strange emotions in the breast of
Jack Carleton. For a year previous, stories had reached the
settlement where he had made his home, of the wonderful Shawanoe
youth, who was captured when a child, and while he was as untameable
in his hatred of the whites as a spitting wildcat, but who was
transformed by kindness into the most devoted friend of the
pioneers.

Ned Preston, who lived at Wild Oaks, nearly a hundred miles distant
from Jack's home, visited the latter a few months before, while on a
hunting excursion, with his colored friend Wild-blossom Brown, and
it was from him that Jack had gained many particulars of the
remarkable history of the young Shawanoe.

Jack credited the statements of Deerfoot's amazing skill in the use
of his bow and arrow, his wonderful fleetness of foot, and his
chivalrous devotion to his friends; but when told that the youth
could not only read, but could write an excellent hand, and that he
was a true Christian, Jack felt many misgivings of the truth of the
whole story.

Jack recalled further the statement that Deerfoot was held in such
detestation by his own race that he became convinced his presence