elt oppressive.
Moncrieff shouted. No human voice responded; but the dog, seated on his
haunches, gave vent to a melancholy howl.

'Look,' I said, 'the dog's paws are red with blood. He is wounded.'

'It isn't _his_ blood, boy.'

The words thrilled me. I felt a sudden fear at my heart, born perhaps of
the death-like stillness. Ah! it was indeed a death-like stillness, and
the stillness of death itself as well.

Moncrieff dismounted. I followed his example, and together we entered the
_fonda_.

We had not advanced a yard when we came on an awesome sight--the dead body
of a Gaucho! It lay on its back with the arms spread out, the face hacked
to pieces, and gashes in the neck. The interior of the hut was a chaos of
wild confusion, the little furniture there was smashed, and evidently
everything of value had been carried away. Half buried in the _debris_ was
the body of a woman, and near it that of a child. Both were slashed and
disfigured, while pools of blood lay everywhere about. Young though I was,
I had seen death before in several shapes, but never anything so ghastly
and awful as this.

A cold shudder ran through my frame and seemed to pierce to the very
marrow of my bones. I felt for a few moments as if in some dreadful
nightmare, and I do not hesitate to confess that, M'Crimman and all as I
am, had those Gauchos suddenly appeared now in the doorway, I could not
have made the slightest resistance to their attack. I should have taken my
death by almost rushing on the point of their terrible knives. But
Moncrieff's calm earnest voice restored me in a moment. At its tones I
felt raised up out of my coward self, and prepared to face anything.

'Murdoch,' he said, 'this is a time for calm thought and action.'

'Yes,' I answered; 'bid me do anything, and I will do it. But come out of
this awful place. I--I feel a little faint.'

Together we left the blood-stained _fonda_, Moncrieff shutting the door
behind him.

'No other eye must look in there,' he said. 'Now, Murdoch, listen.'

He paused, and I waited; his steadfast eyes bent on my face.

'You are better now? You are calm, and no longer afraid?'

'I am no longer afraid.'

'Well, I can trust _you_, and no one else. Led by those evil fiends whom
we saw to-day, the Indians will be on us to-night in force. I will prepare
to give them a warm reception--'

'And I will assist,' I hastened to say.

'No, Murdoch, you will not be here to help us at the commence