hunters, they might take a course which would bring them back over the
same path. So, to avoid any unpleasant discovery, he crept in beneath
some dense shrubbery, where he felt secure against observation, and
anxiously awaited the result.

Ned had not been in this place of concealment five minutes, when he was
startled by a slight noise behind him, such as would be made by the
cautious approach of some person or creature. He turned his head, but
his view was too much obstructed by the vegetation around him. The
slight disturbance continued until Ned's curiosity got the better of his
judgment, and he stealthily parted the leaves with one hand sufficiently
to permit him to see out.

As he dreaded, he detected an Indian warrior, whose actions indicated
that he knew what was going on. He was stepping along as if fearful that
the slight rustling would catch the ears of parties who were far beyond
the range of hearing. Fortunately for Ned, at the moment he looked forth
in this stealthy manner the Apache afforded only what may be termed a
three-quarter view, having passed slightly beyond where he was hidden;
and, as he continued to move in the same direction, nothing but his back
was visible a few minutes afterward. But the lad saw enough to render
him uneasy. At first glimpse he took the Indian to be Lone Wolf, but he
caught sight of enough of his visage to make certain that it was another
warrior altogether; but he was large, powerful, and very formidable
looking, and Ned dreaded an encounter between him and one of the
hunters.

Curiously enough, he carried no gun with him, and, as the boy still
retained possession of Lone Wolf's, it seemed to young Chadmund that he
could want no better opportunity of wiping out one of those pestilent
redskins. With this purpose in view he cautiously shoved the end of the
weapon through the bushes and aimed at the back of the warrior, who, at
that moment, could not have been more than a dozen yards from him. There
could be no mistaking a target so conspicuous and so close at hand; but
when the aim was sure and Ned's finger was pressing the trigger, he
restrained himself by the self-imposed question whether it was right to
pick off a foe, savage though he was, in that fashion. He was well aware
that no mercy would have been shown him had the position been reversed;
still, he could not justify in his own mind an act that looked so much
like murder.

"No," said he, when this inward conflic