"Deerfoot thanks his brothers, but there is nothing more he wishes. He has his rifle, his powder horn, his bullet pouch, his flint and steel and his hunting knife. Anything more would be a burden, but his heart is warm with gratitude to his brothers." At this point in the conversation, Mul-tal-la returned with news of what he had learned by his inquiries among the Nez Perces. The knowledge amounted to little. Chief Amokeat had led his warriors northward three days before, starting just as the sun appeared. He gave no word as to when he would come back, and none could do anything more than guess, nor was the leader clear as to the nature of the business on which he ventured. Perhaps he himself did not know. Still the task that Deerfoot had set himself seemed possible of accomplishment. Knowing the point at which the party left the village and the course taken by them, he could strike the trail, and to keep to it would not be more difficult than many feats he had performed amid the forests and canebrakes of Kentucky and Ohio. He made sure that there was no mistake at the beginning. Then he bade his friends good-bye. Before doing so he talked for some minutes with Mul-tal-la. The Blackfoot favored the course Deerfoot had laid out for himself, though it was not unlikely that the fact that opposition was useless may have had its weight in the conclusion reached by Mul-tal-la. He told the Shawanoe that he would proceed straight to the Blackfoot country, and there await the coming of his friend, who expected like the boys to spend the winter in that northern region. Deerfoot disliked "scenes" as much as did George and Victor Shelton. The only ceremony between him and the three was the shaking of hands and the expression of good wishes. Thus they parted. The dusky youth made his way directly to the point where he had been informed Amokeat and his party had left on their northward excursion, and, without looking behind him, found the trail and began his long journey.