“Good fur you, Guy Burns.  Me an’ your Paw hev hunted Deer together on this very crik many a time.”

When he learned the difficulty about the scent, he said “Hm,” and puffed at his pipe for awhile in silence.  Then at length: 

“Say, Yan, why don’t you and Guy get a bag o’ wheat or Injun corn for scent:  that’s better than paper, an’ what ye lay to-day is all clared up by the birds and Squirrels by to-morrow.”

“Bully!” shouted Sam. (He had not been addressed at all, but he was not thin-skinned.) Within ten minutes he had organized another “White massacree”—­that is, a raid on the home barn, and in half an hour he returned with a peck of corn.

“Now, lemme be Deer,” said Caleb.  “Give me five minutes’ start, then follow as fast as ye like.  I’ll show ye what a real Deer does.”

He strode away bearing the dummy, and in five minutes as they set out on the trail he came striding back again.  Oh, but that seemed a long run.  The boys followed the golden corn trail—­a grain every ten feet was about all they needed now, they were so expert.  It was a straight run for a time, then it circled back till it nearly cut itself again (at X, page 298).  The boys thought it did so, and claimed the right to know, as on a real Deer trail you could tell.  So Caleb said, “No, it don’t cut the old trail.”  Where, then, did it go?  After beating about, Sam said that the trail looked powerful heavy, like it might be double.

“Bet I know,” said Guy.  “He’s doubled back,” which was exactly what he did do, though Caleb gave no sign.  Yan looked back on the trail and found where the new one had forked.  Guy gave no heed to the ground once he knew the general directions.  He ran ahead (toward Y), so did Sam, but Guy glanced back to Yan on the trail to make sure of the line.

They had not gone far beyond the nearest bushes before Yan found another quirk in the trail.  It doubled back at Z. He unravelled the double, glanced around, and at O he plainly saw the Deer lying on its side in the grass.  He let off a triumphant yell, “Yi, yi, yi, Deer!” and the others came running back just in time to see Yan send an arrow straight into its heart.

VI

WAR BONNET, TEEPEE AND COUPS

Forty yards and first shot.  Well, that’s what the Injuns would call a ‘grand coup,’ and Caleb’s face wore the same pleasant look as when he made the fire with rubbing-sticks.

“What’s a grand coup?” asked Little Beaver.

“Oh, I suppose it’s a big deed.  The Injuns call a great feat a ‘coup,’ an’ an extra big one a ‘grand coup.’  Sounds like French, an’ maybe ’tis, but the Injuns says it.  They had a regular way of counting their coup, and for each they had the right to an Eagle feather in their bonnet, with a red tuft of hair on the end for the extra good ones.  At least, they used to.  I reckon now they’re forgetting it all, and any buck Injun wears just any feather he can steal and stick in his head.”