were off on a hunt that required more effort and exertion.

Deerfoot stood only a few seconds, when he smiled more fully than he
had done for along time. He saw his opportunity, and he proceeded
straightway to "improve" it.

He stole forward, as quietly as a shadow, until he had gone the few
yards intervening. All that he feared was that the aboriginal
fisherman might obtain a bite before the boat was reached. If he
could catch a fish on his bone hook, he would be likely to fling him
into the canoe behind him and to turn himself around.

From the moment Deerfoot placed eyes on the motionless figure, he
felt he was master of the situation; but, with his usual quickness,
he had formed his plan and was desirous of carrying it out in spirit
and in letter.

Reaching the canoe, he laid his long bow on the ground beside it;
then, stooping over, he seized the gunwale with both hands and,
quickly as the blow of a panther, he jerked the craft slightly more
than a foot further up the bank.

The result was inevitable. The astonished Miami sprawled forward
from his seat and went down into the muddy Mississippi out of sight,
doubtless frightening away the fish that was nibbling at his bait.

"Hooh!" he groaned, ejecting the water from his mouth as he came to
view, and following it with an expression much in the nature of an
expletive.