Nothing that he did escaped their attention.

Every step was noted, and he knew that if he went a yard beyond the village he would bring a throng of warriors, squaws, and dogs upon him.

But he was grateful for this bit of freedom, the escape from the confinement of close walls, and the forest about them, glowing with autumnal foliage, looked cool and inviting.

He saw nothing of Braxton Wyatt, but Red Eagle told him one day that he had gone northward with a band, hunting.

"He good boy," said Red Eagle.