In an instant he rose upon one knee and levelled his gun at the astonished Shawanoe. In the act of doing so the youth recalled that he had not reloaded it since firing the weapon while in the canoe. Nothing in his manner, however, told the red man this interesting fact. "Do the same as mesilf," whispered Larry to his companion, "for I forgot to load my gun." Wharton was quick to obey, and the Indian stood petrified, absolutely unable to move hand or foot. "I've got ye now, ye spalpeen!" said Larry, in a loud voice; "if ye stir I'll shoot!" To the amazement of the youth, the Indian replied in their own tongue: "No shoot--no hurt Arqu-wao--me good Indian." "Begorra, but ye're not acting like one," was the comment of Larry, who now rose to his feet. "What were ye trying to do, anyway?" Wharton imitated the action of his companion, and said, in an undertone: "Don't hurt the poor fellow." "That depinds on himsilf," was the resolute response. "I spared him once, and he mustn't go to heaving any more rocks at us, for he's too handy at the business." The Indian, at the moment of turning around, had placed his hand on his tomahawk, but snatched it away as though it had suddenly become red hot. He was a picture of abject fear, and trembled in every limb. Had he known enough to wheel about and run, he would have been safe, for neither of the boys had the least desire to harm him. But, to use a modern expression, they had the drop on him. "Keep an eye on him," said Larry, "while I load my gun." The Indian must have experienced peculiar emotions when he received the proof that it was an empty weapon that had brought him to terms. Larry proceeded to reload his rifle in a deliberate fashion, while Wharton covered their prisoner with his own gun. It was while this proceeding was under way that the couple noticed that the sun was almost in the horizon. The long eventful night was ended, and they were close upon more stirring events. "He calls himself Arqu-wao," said Wharton. "I wonder what the name means?" "I'm thinking it means an Indian half-scared to death; but, Whart, what'll we do wid him, now that we've got him?" "That's what puzzles me. If we hadn't waked up just as we did we never would have awaked at all, and if we let him go he'll probably sneak up behind us and drive an arrow through each before we know our danger." "Let's keep him a prisoner." "How will we manage it?" "I'll fix it." Arqu-wao was still motionless, looking as if he expected to be punished with death for his attempt upon the lives of the youths. As Larry spoke, he strode toward him with a stern face and manner. The Indian instantly began pleading in the most pitiful manner for his life. The youth was tender-hearted, and said, kindly: "Be good Indian and we won't hurt, but let me have the tomahawk." The implement was meekly handed over. "Now the knife."