great river. Close beside it, on a grassy flat, was the Shawnee village. It was composed of many bark huts, and inclosed on three sides by a high log stockade. The front was open to the river. As the Shawnees had stopped to rest, Spotted Deer had an opportunity to study the camp. He viewed it with stirring emotions. Once inside the log barricade, he wondered what fate awaited him. He saw many people moving about at the edge of the village, and passing from lodge to lodge. Several canoes were on the river. Smoke rose from the camp.

Then one of the Shawnees uttered a piercing whoop that echoed shrilly across the valley. It roused the camp. People ran from the lodges and assembled in the center of the village. Their upturned faces made it plain that they were gazing toward the top of the ridge. The heavy timber concealed the Shawnees and their captive. The Shawnee called again, and a great shout rose from the camp. Then the dogs barked furiously.

The Shawnees began to descend toward the river. The western side of the ridge was steep and rough, and Spotted Deer was greatly handicapped. He found it difficult to remain on his feet. The Shawnees were following a narrow, precipitous trail, and there were places where the free use of both arms was almost a necessity. The Shawnees, however, showed no concern for the safety of their captive. At a number of steep places, he lost his footing and slid several bow-lengths before he regained his balance. At other spots the trail shrank to a mere foothold across the face of precipitous ledges where a false step meant severe injury or even death. Spotted Deer astounded his captors with his calm nerve and marvelous agility. More than once they expected to see him hesitate at some particularly perilous part of the trail. He never wavered, however, and made his way over places where the Shawnees were compelled to steady themselves with their hands.

"The Delaware is like Tschinque, the mountain cat," they told one another.

When they finally emerged from the timber at the level of the river, they were instantly discovered from the camp. Their appearance threw the village into a commotion. The entire tribe seemed to have rushed out to see them. Men, women and children assembled beyond the stockade. They united their voices in a wild bedlam of sound that might have filled a less courageous captive with terror. Spotted Deer, however, showed no fear. His experience on the war trail, and his adventure in the Mohawk camp, had taught him what to expect in the unfortunate circumstances in which he found himself. He was prepared, therefore, to accept discomfort, torture and death with the unshakeable courage which his people demanded of their warriors.

As his captors led him toward the village they began to sing, and Spotted Deer knew that they were giving a boastful recital of their exploit. In the meantime a company of men and boys were hurrying forward to meet them. They were followed by a large pack of dogs. The Shawnee leader stationed himself beside the captive. Spotted Deer was astonished when he was addressed in his own dialect.

"Delaware, we have brought you to our village," the Shawnee told him. "Our people are waiting for you. They are very mad. Perhaps they will kill you."

Spotted Deer received the threat in silence. The Shawnee studied him closely. He was angered by the scornful smile of the Delaware.

"Have my people frightened away your words?" he demanded, sarcastically.

"I see many dogs," replied Spotted Deer. "A Delaware is not afraid of dogs."

For an instant the Shawnee seemed about to attack him, but at that moment they were surrounded by the company from the village. The Shawnees pushed and jostled wildly in their efforts to reach the prisoner. His captors, however, held them off. The leader called out in commanding tones, and the Shawnees fell back. They seemed frantic with excitement, and Spotted Deer knew that they would show little mercy.

As they moved toward the camp, some of the boys began to taunt and jeer and throw stones and sticks. The dogs, too, were snarling and snapping and skulking between the Shawnees to reach the stranger. One particularly ugly-looking brute rushed forward and attempted to fasten its fangs in Spotted Deer's leg. He kicked savagely and it slunk away.

Once at the edge of the camp, Spotted Deer was made the object of a vicious attack. His guards were swept aside, and men, women and children rushed upon him and began to beat him. For some moments he believed he would be killed. Then some one called out loudly from the village, and the attack suddenly ceased.

Three warriors were walking slowly toward the crowd of Shawnees. It was evident at once that they were persons of importance. As they approached, Spotted Deer studied them with great interest. Two were robust men of middle age, and the third seemed considerably older. He wore a bearskin robe, and carried a tomahawk. Spotted Deer believed he was the one who had called out. He wondered if it was the war chief of the Shawnees.

As the three warriors advanced, the Shawnees separated to permit them to reach the prisoner. Spotted Deer had been badly battered by his foes, and the Shawnees laughed indifferently as they saw the evidence of his punishment. There was a bold challenge in his glance, however, that compelled their respect. It was apparent that the youthful warrior had little fear of them. For some moments they studied him in silence. Then the oldest warrior turned and addressed the great company of Shawnees. When he ceased speaking, they entered the village.

The Delaware was taken to the center of the camp. He presented a striking appearance as he walked between his guards with his head erect and his eyes flashing defiance at his jeering foes. He was led to a large bark lodge, and pushed through the doorway.

Spotted Deer found himself in a good-sized room which was occupied by an old woman, who was busily engaged poking the embers of a small fire. His guards had followed him into the lodge, and at sight of the three intruders the old woman began to scold furiously. Then she suddenly noticed that Spotted Deer was a stranger. She rose, and tottered forward to look at him. In a moment she turned, and questioned her tribesmen. When they replied, her aged face flamed with hate. She rushed at Spotted Deer like some horrible witch who was about to shrivel him with the heat of her wrath. Cackling fiendishly, she thrust her bony, talon-like hands at his eyes. He avoided her, and then sprang forward so menacingly that she drew back shrieking in terror. Then the Shawnees ordered her from the lodge. She turned at the doorway and shook her clenched hand at the captive. A moment afterward they heard her haranguing the crowd that had assembled outside. Spotted Deer believed that she might prove to be a crafty and dangerous foe.

In the meantime one of the Shawnees had motioned for the prisoner to seat himself upon the wide platform of poles that extended along the side of the room. Then they bound his ankles, and withdrew.

Left to himself, Spotted Deer began to study the lodge. It was similar in plan and structure to the Delaware lodges. The walls and roof were made of slabs of bark fitted between two rows of poles, and held in place by splints and ropes made of twisted strands of bark. Each slab was punctured at the ends and securely tied in position with bark fibers. The roof, which was somewhat arched, was braced with many small poles and had an opening in the center as an exit for the smoke from the camp fire. The lodge was about five bow-lengths wide and four bow-lengths long. A wide platform of poles extended along each side of the room. The floor was packed earth. There was a shallow fire pit in the center. The lodge was without furnishings, and appeared deserted. Spotted Deer wondered how the old woman had chanced to be there. As there was nothing to indicate that she had been cooking, he believed that she had entered the lodge to burn incense and conduct some mysterious medicine rite. The thought