bag that held Henry's eye, and,
holding it, gave him the idea.

He detached the bag, the waistcloth and moccasins, and calling to his
comrades retreated farther into the forest. Every one of them, as they
watched his actions, divined his intent.

"You're going to disguise yourself and go into the Indian camp," said
Paul, when they stopped. "I wouldn't do it. The risk is too great.
Besides, what can you do?"

"I went among 'em once and came back alive," said Henry, "and I think I
can do it again. Besides, I mean to accomplish something."

"I'm to go with you, o' course?" said Shif'less Sol, eagerly.

Henry shook his head.

"No, Sol," he said reluctantly. "There's only equipment for one, and it
must be me. But the rest of you can hang on the outskirts, and if I give
a cry for help you may come. It will be, as before, the howl of the
wolf, and now, boys, we will work fast, because I must strike, while
they're still in the frenzy, created by the medicine men."

Henry took off his own clothing, and, with a shudder, put on the
leggings and breechcloth of the dead Indian. Then Shif'less Sol and Tom
Ross painted him from the waist up in a ghastly manner, and, with their
heartfelt wishes for his safety and success, he departed for the camp,
the others following in silence not far behind. He soon heard the sound
of the chant and he knew that the orgie was proceeding. An Indian dance
could last two days and nights without stopping, fresh warriors always
replacing those who dropped from exhaustion.

It was now far past midnight, and Henry was quite sure that all the
hunters had gone. The little party which he and his comrades had fought
had probably spread already the tale of a mysterious foe with whom they
had met, and who had slain one of their number. And the story,
exaggerated much in the telling, would add to the number and power of
the evil spirits oppressing the red army.

Keeping for the present well hidden in the forest, Henry approached the
fires which had now been heaped up to an amazing height, from which
lofty flames leaped and which sent off sparks in millions. The chant was
wilder than ever, rolling in weird echoes through the forest, the
dancers leaping to and fro, their faces bathed in perspiration, their
eyes filled with the glare of temporary madness. The Englishmen and
renegades had gone to small tents pitched at the edge of the wood, but
Yellow Panther and Red Eagle stood and watched the dancers.

A