to Herbert, before I leave you, the bridle
path leading to it."

"Thank you. It will be a great advantage to us to know just how to
live."

With Herbert's help an appetizing repast was prepared, of which all
three partook with keen zest.

The next day Falkland took leave of them, and Melville and his boy
companion were left to settle down in their new home.

CHAPTER XXX. A TERRIBLE MOMENT.

Melville's purchase comprised not only the cottage, but its contents,
pictures and books included. This was fortunate, for though Herbert,
who was strong, and fond of outdoor sports, such as hunting and fishing,
could have contented himself, Melville was easily fatigued, and spent at
least half of the day in the cabin. The books, most of which were new to
him, were a great and unfailing resource.

Among the articles which Falkland left behind him were two guns, of
which Herbert and Melville made frequent use. Herbert had a natural
taste for hunting, though, at home, having no gun of his own, he had
not been able to gratify his taste as much as he desired. Often after
breakfast the two sallied forth, and wandered about in the neighboring
woods, gun in hand. Generally Melville returned first, leaving Herbert,
not yet fatigued, to continue the sport. In this way our hero acquired a
skill and precision of aim which enabled him to make a very respectable
figure even among old and practiced hunters.

One morning, after Melville had returned home, Herbert was led, by the
ardor of the chase, to wander farther than usual. He was aware of this,
but did not fear being lost, having a compass and knowing his bearings.
All at once, as he was making his way along a wooded path, he was
startled by hearing voices. He hurried forward, and the scene upon which
he intruded was dramatic enough.

With arms folded, a white man, a hunter, apparently, stood erect, and
facing him, at a distance of seventy-five or eighty feet, was an Indian,
with gun raised, and leveled at the former.

"Why don't you shoot, you red rascal!" said the white man. "You've got
the drop on me, I allow, and I am in your power."

The Indian laughed in his guttural way; but though he held the gun
poised, he did not shoot. He was playing with his victim as a cat plays
with a mouse before she kills it.

"Is white man afraid?" said the Indian, not tauntingly, but with real
curiosity, for among Indians it is considered a great triumph if
a warrior can inspire fear i