51 



in his eyes seemed to soften with fear, as he 

 recognized me as the one thing in the wilder- 

 ness that dared to hunt him, the king. My Cloud-lOinds 

 hand touched him fair on the shoulder ; then m^^^^Ie 

 he shot into the air, and went sweeping in 

 great circles over the tree-tops, still looking 

 down at the man, wondering and fearing at 

 the way in which he had been brought into 

 the man's power. 



But one thing he did not understand. 

 Standing erect on the log, and looking up 

 at him as he swept over me, I kept think- 

 ing, " I did it, I did it, Cheplahgan, Old 

 Cloud- Wings. And I had grabbed your 

 legs, and pinned you down, and tied you in 

 a bag, and brought you to camp, but that I 

 chose to let you go free. And that is better 

 than shooting you. Now I shall find your 

 httle ones and touch them too." 



For several days I had been watching Old 

 Whitehead's lines of flight, and had con- 

 cluded that his nest was somewhere in the 

 hills northwest of the big lake. I went there 

 one afternoon, and while confused in the big 

 timber, which gave no outlook in any direction, 



