against the gray stone. He saw the Indian's plume,
a single feather waving silver-white. Then it became riveted on the
bubbling, refulgent spring. The pool was round, perhaps five feet
across, and shone like a burnished shield. It mirrored the moon, the
twinkling stars, the spectre trees.

An unaccountable horror suddenly swept over the watching man. His
hair stood straight up; a sensation as of cold stole chillingly over
him. Whether it was the climax of this long night's excitement, or
anticipation of the bloody struggle soon to come, he knew not. Did
this boiling spring, shimmering in the sliver moon-rays, hold in its
murky depths a secret? Did these lonesome, shadowing trees, with
their sad drooping branches, harbor a mystery? If a future tragedy
was to be enacted here in this quiet glade, could the murmuring
water or leaves whisper its portent? No; they were only silent, only
unintelligible with nature's mystery.

The waiting man cursed himself for a craven coward; he fought back
the benumbing sense; he steeled his heart. Was this his vaunted
willingness to share the Avenger's danger? His strong spirit rose up
in arms; once more he was brave and fierce.

He fastened a piercing gaze on the plumed guard. The Indian's
lounging posture against the rock was the same as it had been
before, yet now it seemed to have a kind of strained attention. The
savage's head was poised, like that of a listening deer. The wary
Indian scented danger.

A faint moan breathed low above the sound of gently splashing water
somewhere beyond the glade.

"Woo-o-oo."

The guard's figure stiffened, and became rigidly erect; his blanket
slowly slid to his feet.

"Ah-oo-o," sighed the soft breeze in the tree tops.

Louder then, with a deep wail, a moan arose out of the dark gray
shadows, swelled thrilling on the still air, and died away
mournfully.

"Um-m-mmwoo-o-o-o!"

The sentinel's form melted into the shade. He was gone like a
phantom.

Another Indian rose quickly, and glanced furtively around the glade.
He bent over a comrade and shook him. Instantly the second Indian
was on his feet. Scarcely had he gained a standing posture when an
object, bounding like a dark ball, shot out of the thicket and
hurled both warriors to the earth. A moonbeam glinted upon something
bright. It flashed again on a swift, sweeping circle. A short,
choking yell aroused the other savages. Up they sprang, alarmed,
confused.

The shadow-form darted a