As he said this, he threw over the neck of the Delaware the magnificent bear–claw collar which adorned his own. This was perhaps the happiest moment of Attō’s life, for such a collar could be worn only by braves of the highest rank in Indian aristocracy, and the acclamation with which his comrades hailed the presentation of the gift, assured Reginald that it had been neither unwisely nor unworthily bestowed. The latter then turned towards the prisoner, and made him a sign to follow towards the outer edge of the thicket, in the direction where Baptiste and he had shot the two Indians who led the attack; their bodies still lay where they fell; the youth gazed upon them with stern composure. Reginald inquired by a sign if he knew them: he replied in the affirmative; and he added, pointing to the nearer of the two, a sign which Reginald did not comprehend; he turned to Attō for an explanation. “He says,” replied the Delaware, “that was his father.” Reginald, much affected, placed the youth’s hand against his own breast in token of regard, and made him understand that he was free to go himself, and to remove the bodies without interruption. The young Crow replied by a look of gratitude too expressive to require the interpretation of language, and moving towards the body of his father, bore it into the midst of his wondering companions, who received him with repeated wailings and cries: none, however, seemed disposed to believe in his assurance that they might take away the other body likewise; he was obliged to return himself: and then one of his tribe, seeing that he stood uninjured beside it, came out from their ranks and assisted him to bear it off. CHAPTER XIV. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.—REGINALD PREPARES TO FOLLOW THE TRAIL. For two days the band of Crows hovered round the encampment, sometimes showing themselves on the adjacent heights, at others drawing off to a distance, in hopes of enticing some of Reginald’s party to venture into the open country; but although he himself chafed and fretted like an impatient steed, he was sensible of the risk that must attend any error or imprudence while in the neighbourhood of an enemy so crafty and so strong in numbers, and he never permitted the watchfulness of his little garrison to be relaxed for a moment: the horses were driven to feed under the guard of two armed Delawares, and were not sent to a distance whence their return could be intercepted, and the watches were regularly set and relieved during the whole night.