“Mul-tal-la cannot get nigh enough to bring down the antelopes,” remarked Deerfoot, “for they go faster than any of our horses can run.” “My brother Deerfoot cannot get near enough to shoot an antelope, but Mul-tal-la finds no trouble in doing so.” The brothers were astonished by the audacity of this remark. Did the Blackfoot presume to think his fleetness of foot could be compared with that of the Shawanoe, who had never met his equal? They looked at Deerfoot to see how he took the slur. He was never troubled by such trifles. “It will please the heart of Deerfoot to see his brother bring back one of the antelopes. Does he want Deerfoot’s gun?” “No; it shall be done with Mul-tal-la’s bow and arrow,” was another surprising declaration. Saying no more, the Blackfoot, bearing his long bow in his right hand, walked down the gentle slope and moved, not toward the antelopes, but to the south. The timid creatures noticed him at once, for he made no effort to conceal himself. All the six raised their heads and watched him with evident misgiving. The two that had shown so much fear from the first glanced first at him and then at the group on the rise in the prairie, as if uncertain which was the most to be dreaded. Had Mul-tal-la walked directly toward the animals they would have been off like so many arrows, but he bore away as if they were not in his mind. As it was, however, three of the antelopes galloped a hundred yards or so to the north, when, seeing that their companions did not follow, they stopped and resumed their staring. The warrior walked steadily until he was equidistant from his friends and from the antelopes. Still facing away from the latter, he now sank to the ground and began creeping toward the animals. Deerfoot, who, like the boys, was watching every movement, smiled. “They will not let my brother come nigh enough to reach them with an arrow,” he remarked, not a little amused over what looked like the certain discomfiture of his companion, for, despite the tall grass, he was sure to be detected by the creatures. Sure enough, he had advanced but a little way when the whole six bounded off as if they would never stop. Mul-tal-la ceased crawling, but did not rise. “What is he doing?” asked the puzzled Victor, closely watching the red man, who could be plainly seen without the aid of the glass. His action was curious. Still lying on his face, he raised one hand as far above his head as he could reach, and slowly waved it from side to side with a regular, pendulum movement. The antelopes that were bounding off abruptly stopped, wheeled part way round and stared at the oscillating hand. They stood for a little while, and then one of them began stepping cautiously toward the object. The others reluctantly imitated him, so that the singular sight of six antelopes marching carefully in Indian file was displayed. Deerfoot chuckled, for he now understood the trick.