o welcome him. He kept hoping against hope that the
worst had not happened. The thought that Kiopo was killed, that he had
seen his faithful companion for the last time, was unthinkable. Kiopo
_must_ come back! He had told himself that he had been injured in the
fall from the precipice, and was in hiding somewhere till his wounds
should heal; Or that he had lost his way, and was wandering in the
forest; Or, being hungry, that he had followed the trail of some
far-travelling buck, and would not return till he had gorged himself
with his kill! Any of these things! But not that other unthinkable
thing, in the black throat of the gorge!

And all round the little valley that now seemed so deserted, the forest
stood gigantically silent, as if it _knew_.

Not far from the camp, grew an immense hemlock. Over its dusky summit a
thousand moons had waxed and waned. The shadow of its boughs was the
darkness that had followed the dead moons. Several times, Dusty Star had
seen Kiopo re-appear from its gloomy shade after he had been away on
some of his long hunting expeditions. Now, he found himself continually
turning his anxious gaze in its direction.

Suddenly, as he looked, he thought he saw something move. He was not
sure. The space under the tree was very dark. Anything might crouch
there and be invisible, even at high noon. What was it?--animal or
human? He could not tell. The great old tree looked as if it had known
no motion within the circle of its shade for a thousand years. Yet Dusty
Star was not to be deceived. He _knew_ that he had seen!

Yet for all his looking at the tree, he saw nothing more. The movement,
whatever had made it, had been very slight. He would have thought
nothing was there if it had not been for the instinct which continual
dwelling among the wild creatures had developed in him: _he felt he was
being watched_.

For some time, he could not make up his mind what to do. He knew that
his smallest movement would not escape the unseen watcher. As the time
went on, the suspense became unbearable. He felt he must do something
definite. Gathering all his courage, he advanced deliberately towards
the tree.

Except his hunting knife, he carried no weapon. But Dusty Star was no
coward. Even though his heart was pounding, and his body tingling, he
did not falter. Without pausing for an instant, he stooped beneath the
sweepings boughs, gripping his knife.

To his astonishment, there was nothing to be seen. H