watch during the night. But a war-party of Indians,
out on an expedition against another tribe with whom they were at deadly
feud, chanced to traverse the unfrequented pass at that time in order to
make a short cut, and descend from an unusual quarter, and so take their
enemies by surprise.

Towards midnight--when the rocky crags and beetling cliffs frowned like
dark clouds over the spot where the travellers lay in deepest shade,
with only a few red embers of the camp-fire to throw a faint lurid light
on their slumbering forms--a tall savage emerged from the surrounding
gloom, so stealthily, so noiselessly, and by such slow degrees, that he
appeared more like a vision than a reality. At first his painted visage
only and the whites of his glittering eyes came into view as he raised
his head above the surrounding brushwood and stretched his neck in order
to obtain a better view of the camp. Then slowly, inch by inch, almost
with imperceptible motion, he crept forward until the whole of his gaunt
form was revealed. A scalping-knife gleamed in his right hand. The
camp was strewn with twigs, but these he removed one by one, carefully
clearing each spot before he ventured to rest a knee upon it. While the
savage was thus engaged, Larry O'Hale, who was nearest to him, sighed
deeply in his sleep and turned round. The Indian at once sank so flat
among the grass that scarcely any part of him was visible. Big Ben, who
slept very lightly, was awakened by Larry's motions, but having been
aroused several times already by the same restless individual, he merely
glanced at his sleeping comrade and shut his eyes again.

Well aware that in such a camp there must assuredly be at least one who
was acquainted with the ways and dangers of the wilderness, and who,
therefore, would be watchful, the savage lay perfectly still for more
than a quarter of an hour; then he raised his head, and, by degrees, his
body, until he kneeled once more by the side of the unconscious
Irishman. As he raised himself a small twig snapt under his weight.
The face of the savage underwent a sudden spasmodic twitch, and his dark
eye glanced sharply from one to another of the sleepers, while his
fingers tightened on the hilt of his knife, but the rest of his body
remained as rigid as a statue. There was no evidence that the sound had
been heard. All remained as still and motionless as before, while the
savage bent over the form of Larry O'Hale and gazed in