"So Taggarak would do with the Shawanoe, but so does not the Shawanoe, for he is a Christian," replied Deerfoot, rising from the prostrate body and stepping back for a couple of paces. The Blackfoot was still bewildered. He lay motionless for a few seconds, staring at the youth looking serenely down upon him. The chief had been conquered, absolutely, crushingly and to the last degree humiliatingly; for, most amazing thing of all, his conqueror had refused to take his life, knowing that it would have been the other way had the Shawanoe suffered defeat. And he who showed this unheard-of mercy professed to be a Christian! What a strange religion to make a warrior act in that manner! Slowly the iron-limbed chieftain climbed to his feet. He was not looking at the Shawanoe, who had folded his arms and was calmly watching him. Taggarak stood upright, turned his face away, took three steps and then paused. His head flirted about like a bird's and he fixed his burning eyes upon the dusky youth, still posed like a statue, with arms folded and on the alert for any treachery. The Blackfoot gazed steadily into the eyes that met his own without flinching. He did not speak, but, looking away again, strode solemnly across the open space, not pausing to pick up his weapon, and disappeared in the rocky wood. Deerfoot remained motionless for several moments, gazing at the point where the other had passed from sight. Then he reverently turned his eyes upward and murmured: "I thank Thee, my Heavenly Father. Thou art kinder to Deerfoot than he deserves." His next act was most peculiar. He paid no heed to the knife of Taggarak, but picked up his own. It had a keen edge, and instead of thrusting the weapon into his girdle he walked to the nearest undergrowth and began cutting a stick several feet in length and of nearly an inch's thickness at the butt. About this time George and Victor Shelton, from their hiding place, where they had stealthily watched everything, began to feel disturbed in mind. "What do you suppose he is doing that for?" whispered Victor, peeping around the corner of the rock. "I'm blessed if I know. He is trimming off the twigs, so as to make the stick smooth." "Do you suppose he saw us?" "He couldn't. He has mighty sharp eyes, but he had no chance to look anywhere except in the face of Taggarak, and we haven't shown ourselves since he left." "It's a queer performance anyway, and I don't feel--" "Sh! He's looking this way." The next moment both boys shivered, for, facing the rock which until then they were certain had hid them from view, the Shawanoe called: "Let my brothers come here. Deerfoot wishes to speak to them." "He saw us after all!" gasped Victor. "Let's run!" "What good will that do? There's no getting away from him." "He looks savage, George; he means business. Can't we combine and lick him if he tries to play smart with us?"