the death-cries,
mingling with the deep-toned bayings of ferocious joy. But never for one
instant did the man relax his watchfulness. Never once did his rifle
cease its biting greeting to the relentless scavengers of the forest.
Short and sharp its words leapt forth, and every word meant death.

The moon passed its meridian and sank lower and lower towards the
western peaks; and as it lost power the stars shone more brilliantly and
the northern lights hovered in the sky, dancing their fantastic measure
slowly, solemnly. The tint of dawn stole gradually above the eastern
horizon. The man was still at his post, his unsleeping eyes ever
watchful. Longer intervals now elapsed between his deadly shots. The
wolves recognized the coming of daylight, and became more chary of
breaking cover. Besides, the banquet was nearly over and every guest was
gorged.

Dawn grew apace. The silver of the eastern sky changed to gold, deeper
and deeper, till the yellow merged into a roseate sheen which shone down
upon the cloud mists, and tinged them with the hue of blood. Light was
over the darkling forests, and as it brightened the voice of the forest
legions died away in the distance, and the battleground was deserted of
all but the author of the fearful carnage.

Nick waited in his shelter until the last cry had passed. Then he
reluctantly turned back into the hut. He sought no rest. His fevered
brain was in a tumult. For a long time he stood beside his brother's
corpse, while his mind struggled to regain something of its lost
balance. There came to him a hazy recollection of all that had gone
before. It was as though he stood viewing the past from some
incalculable distance. Events passed phantasmagorically before his
memory, yet always their meaning seemed to tantalize and elude him.

And while he stood thus the woman leapt into the foreground of his
mental picture. It was the tangible feature he needed upon which he
could link the chain of recollection. Now everything became more clear.
Now the meaning of his brother's dead body returned to him once more. He
remembered all that had happened. His love for Aim-sa arose paramount
out of the shadowed recesses of his deranged mind, and merged into that
other passion which had gripped him the night long.

Nor was there pity nor penitence in his mood. Remorse had passed from
him. Now there was no one to stand between him and his love. He was glad
that Ralph was dead. Suddenly, as he stood