The fight had been of the cyclone order, but, brief as it was, Deerfoot had become himself again. He was the Christian who could not shed the blood of one that was unable to defend himself, even though that one was his deadly enemy. The Assiniboine had dropped his gun when assuming his position at bay, and it lay several feet away on the ground. Lowering his own weapon, Deerfoot pointed after the fleeing horse and said sternly in the tongue of the Blackfeet: "Run! run after the horse!" The gesture, as much as the words, explained the command. It was so unparalleled, so utterly unexpected, that the Assiniboine stood in a daze. Deerfoot knew that the report of the gun would speedily bring the warriors to the spot, and there was not a minute to spare. He repeated his order more sharply than before and accompanied it with a threatening lifting of his gun to a level. The other could not misunderstand the significance of voice and gesture. He stepped forward to pick up his rifle. "Stop!" shouted the Shawanoe, before the other could stoop. "Leave it where it is! Follow the horse." The hammer of the leveled rifle was at full cock. Still unable fully to comprehend all that had taken place, the chieftain faced about and broke into a lope after his horse, which acted as if it would keep up its pace for the remainder of the day. Deerfoot waited till the chief had gone a hundred paces, when heading the other way he gave the word to Whirlwind, whom, however, he held down to a walk. The rider wished to witness developments. Looking back he saw the Assiniboine motionless and gazing after him with emotions that can hardly be imagined or described. He stood thus for a minute, when he started on a run to recover his rifle from where it lay on the ground. Just before reaching the spot the party of horsemen emerged from the mouth of the canyon and paused while their leader rejoined them. It would be interesting to know how he squared matters with his warriors. It would have required a vivid imagination and a genius in the way of invention to explain how it was his horse was just vanishing in the distance; how the chief was in the act of recovering his weapon, and more than all, how it came about that the youthful warrior of a strange tribe, who had already slain one Assiniboine--though that was yet unknown to this party--was riding leisurely off on the back of the special pet of the chieftain. If the Assiniboine was wise he made a clean breast of it, and insisted that the dusky stranger was a marvel in his way whom it was exceedingly unwise to push into a corner.