"now, see here," said jack; after the young indian straightened up, "you have told me more than once that that deer is yours. i don't know whether it is or not, for the creature didn't fall till i shot him----"

"he mine! he mine!" interrupted the other, laying his hand in a threatening manner on his knife. "my name arowaka--me wyandot; father, hua-awa-oma--he great chief!"

"he may be a great chief among his own people, but you won't find him of much account among white folk. what i meant to say, arowaka, is that your saying that the game is yours doesn't make it yours. you have your hand on your knife. i have a knife too, and i am not afraid of you."

the young wyandot showed by his manner that he was surprised. clearly he did not expect such a rebuff as this, and, though his swarthy hand still rested on his weapon, he did not draw it forth.

"what is your bow good for, any way?" continued jack, with a smile at the primitive weapon. "you indians can't do half as much with your bows and arrows as we can with our guns. i killed two painters with my rifle last night, and i'll warrant that that's more than you ever did in all your life."

at this point it struck jack that he would do a foolish thing to engage in a quarrel with the young indian over the ownership of so small a thing as the carcase of a deer. since he had not only defied the other, but forced him to pause in his demands, the white youth felt more kindly towards him.

"see here, arowaka," he added, "i think i have as much right to the game as you, but i don't want it half as bad. i'll let you have it. why don't you pick it up and carry it off?"

the wyandot, who must have understood these words, looked at the speaker with a curious expression, that is, so far as it could be seen through the paint with which his face was daubed.

"what your name?" he asked, in a lower voice than before.

"jack gedney, and i live only a short distance up the path yonder."

"me know," said the other. "jack have fine gun."

"you are right about that," was the proud answer of the lad.

"me like see him."

jack was too wise to trust his valuable weapon in the hands of the young scamp, who would be glad enough to steal it. still, he thought it safe to let him have a better view of it than he could have so long as it was held in the two hands of the owner.

so our young friend was foolish enough to compromise. he leaned his gun against the nearest tree, where the eye could trace its whole beautiful shape, from the muzzle to the lowermost corner of the ornamented stock.

jack took care to stand quite close to the piece, so that, if the young wyandot should make an attempt to seize it, he could be ahead of him.

to the surprise of jack, the wyandot, instead of advancing towards the weapon, moved back several paces, just as a person does when he wishes to view all the points of some large object.

"he knows better than to try to take it from me," was the conclusion of jack, "for i would fight him like a painter, and i would never give up that gun except with my life."

at this moment came the greatest surprise of jack gedney's life. he was looking admiringly at his weapon when the hand of an indian warrior softly reached from behind the tree, and grasped the barrel. an instant later the figure of a wyandot stepped into sight, holding his bow in one hand and the captured rifle in the other.

no one can imagine the consternation of jack gedney, who had allowed his prize to pass from his possession without so much as raising a finger to prevent it. it looked indeed as if the young wyandot had been trying to get him to do the very thing that he had done. this, however, could not have been the case, for two indians must have felt able to overcome so young a lad as jack, even with his loaded gun.

jack could hardly keep from crying, for his grief overflowed. the next instant he was filled with anger.

"that is mine," said he, stepping towards the indian, and reaching out his hand.

the savage extended the weapon, as if he meant to pass it back to the lad; but before the latter could seize it it was withdrawn, and the indian grinned more than ever.

the warrior was dressed similarly to arowaka, the paint on his face being daubed in much the same fashion. from this, and the fact that several glances passed between the two, jack gedney rightly concluded that they were father and son, the warrior being hua-awa-oma, who, as his offspring claimed, was a great chief.

"want gun?" asked the savage, speaking for the first time.

"yes, it is mine. i must have it! i will have it!"

in his indignation, jack was ready to draw his knife, and leap at his tantalising enemy. such a step could not have helped him, while it might have caused him much harm.

hua-awa-oma showed that, like many an american indian, he had a vein of waggery in his composition. the race to which he belonged is probably the most melancholy in the world, but there are times when its people show something akin to mirth. the chief set the gun against the tree where it was standing a few minutes before, and then beckoned to his son to come nigher.

arowaka walked forward until he stood near the wondering jack gedney.

"you wrestle, you two!" said he. "one throw other, him have gun."

the meaning of this was clear enough: the ownership of the gun was to be decided by a wrestling bout between jack gedney and the young wyandot.

the heart of the white youth gave a quick throb of delight, for there was no boy in the settlement within two years of his age whom he could not easily master in such a contest. he had thrown will burton, taller and older than he, with as much ease as he had every lad anywhere near his age.

the lads, having been told to begin, lost no time in doing so. it was fortunate for jack that his opponent proved to be left-handed, since that gave jack the hold which he wished. with their arms encircling each other, and the hands clasped in front, their heads bent slightly forward, so that they could watch each other's feet, the struggle began.

at this juncture the question came to jack gedney--

"if i do throw this fellow and win, will the chief keep his promise?"

it must be confessed that there was little reason to believe that hua-awa-oma (he who fights without falling) would show the least regard for his pledge. this, however, did not weaken the arm of jack gedney, who, bending his body slightly forward and downward, suddenly caught his opponent on his hip and flung him on his back before the fellow could prevent it. jack fell so heavily across him that he almost forced the breath from his body.

but arowaka was on his feet scarcely a second behind jack, who was given no time to see how the chief took it, when he found both shoulders seized by his opponent.

jack was quick to do the same, so that the two contestants faced each other. the young wyandot took a lesson from his fall, and he was so guarded that he defeated several efforts to catch him unawares.

all at once, like a flash, jack, tightly grasping the arms of arowaka, dropped his own shoulders, kicked the feet of the other from beneath him, and, with the most powerful effort he could put forth, lifted the wyandot clear from the ground.

finding himself going, arowaka struggled desperately, his feet beating the air like frantic drumsticks, but he could not save himself. the next instant he shot over jack's head as if fired from a gun, and struck the ground with a shock that seemed violent enough to break his neck.