"This was the blanket of an Osage warrior," said the Shawanoe, flinging it to Otto, who turned it over several times in silence, Jack looking over his shoulder.

"I suppose he caught sight of that before we came up and learned the truth; don't you think so?"

"I don't dink nodings more," replied Otto, still pouting from the offence given a few minutes previous.

Bending over, Deerfoot carefully drew some leaves aside and revealed the upper bone of a deer's foreleg, to which a good quantity of partially broiled venison was clinging. Judging from this discovery and the number of bones scattered about, the Osages had more food than they needed.

"We--that is, you and I, Deerfoot--are hungry. Is the meat in shape for us to eat?"

The Shawanoe had satisfied himself by examination that it was ready for the palate, and he so expressed himself.

"That is good; there is just enough to make as a good dinner. Otto doesn't look as though he cared about any, and he can wait till tomorrow."

This statement of the situation quickly loosened the tongue of the sturdy German, whose hunger had reached a ravenous point.

"I speaks mit myself luf ven I vishes," he hastened to say; "I vos as hungry as nefer could be, and what for you dinks I ain't, eh?"

Jack laughed, and, sitting on the same tree which had served the red men, all three used their keen hunting-knives upon the rarely-cooked meat. They could have enjoyed much more had it been at their disposal; but as it was, they made a substantial meal, receiving enough nourishment to last them till the morrow.

"How many warriors were here?" asked Jack of their leader.

"Seven," was the prompt reply.

"What brought them to this place?"

"They were hunting; an Osage village is not many miles off yonder," said Deerfoot, pointing to the southwest; "and they have gone there. They spent the night here."

"Did they get my horse?" asked Otto, whose face was aglow with good nature and grease.

"My brother shall soon know."

CHAPTER XX

"GOOD-BYE!"

Deerfoot directed his course toward the elevation where he and his friends stood when they first caught sight of the smoke of the camp-fire. It was an easy matter to determine, whether the Osages had discovered the horse while in that section. If they had not done so, the probabilities were against their finding him at all.

An interesting question had already been answered by Deerfoot, respecting the degree of hostility of the Osage Indians. There was comfort in the thought that they were not active and malignant in their enmity. They were not likely to trail a white man for the sake of taking his life, as their fierce brethren across the Mississippi loved to do, nor did they possess the courage of the warlike Shawanoes, whose encounters with the early pioneers of the West form the most thrilling episodes in its history.