Speckled Eagle looked at him eagerly. Ah, if only he were coming to woo Deerfoot! As she watched, the stranger gave a few skillful strokes of his paddle that sent his canoe out of the current and brought it gliding toward the shore before Speckled Eagle’s lodge. In another moment he was stepping out upon the pebbly shore. All a-flutter with excitement Speckled Eagle went hurrying down to meet him, not forgetting in her haste to snatch up a bundle of bark which hung in the tepee. When she had greeted the strange brave and bade him welcome to her lodge, she spread pieces of the bark before him on the ground from the landing to the tepee, to do him honor. When he had reached the campfire, she begged him to rest on a soft pile of skins while she and her daughter prepared a feast for him. Everyone in her camp was delighted with the handsome stranger--all but one old dog which growled and showed his teeth from the moment the unknown brave stepped ashore. The man trembled at the dog’s angry snarls, and said he could not eat a bit of the feast until that ugly animal was taken away. Anxious to please her noble guest, Speckled Eagle led the old dog out into the bushes and killed him, though she dared not tell Deerfoot what she had done, for the girl was fond of the faithful dog. Soon the stranger made it known that he was a chieftain from the far north, who had made a temporary camp down the river a few miles below Speckled Eagle’s tepee. Furthermore he said that he wished to wed the lovely Deerfoot. The girl was so charmed by his handsome face, his well-built figure and splendid carriage that she consented at once. Speckled Eagle was more than satisfied to have so fine a son-in-law. So a great wedding feast was held and Deerfoot married the strange brave that night. [Illustration: DEERFOOT GREETS THE STRANGER] On the following morning when Speckled Eagle was ready to make a fire, she went out into the bushes to get some dry faggots. There lay the body of the old dog she had killed, pecked full of holes as if a great bird had feasted on it. The soft earth round about was marked by strange three-toed prints. A sudden fear came to Speckled Eagle’s heart. She hurried back to the camp, and asked all present to take off their moccasins or shoes. All did as she bade--all but the stranger. “I never take off my shoes,” he said haughtily, “It is a custom of my tribe.” “But see the beautiful moccasins I have made for you,” insisted Speckled Eagle. For many moons she had worked on them, intending them to be a wedding gift for her noble son-in-law, whenever he should appear. They were of the softest leather, heavily beaded and worked in quills of the porcupine, and the stranger’s eyes began to glisten as he looked at them. Like a flash he whipped off his own moccasins, and put on the new ones before Speckled Eagle could see his feet. But the little brother’s eyes were sharp. “Mother,” he cried in terror, “he has feet like a bird--he has only three toes.”