icane Hill. When, at length, he stood upon hard ground below, he
was taken somewhat back by seeing no one near him.

"That's queer," he said; "what's become of the skunks?"

He had scarcely uttered the words when a tall form suddenly appeared at
his side, coming up as if he had risen from the very ground.

"Do the hunters sleep?"

This question was asked in pure Apache, and Tom, somewhat distrustful of
his own ability in that line, managed to muffle his blanket up in front
of his mouth as he replied in the same tongue:

"They sleep not."

"Where is their scalps, Mau-tau-ke?"

"On their heads."

The warrior was no more than ten feet distant, and from the moment the
scout detected him he began edging away, the Indian naturally following
along while these words were being uttered, so as to keep within easy
ear-shot. Upon hearing the second reply to his question, he paused, and
Tom, dreading a betrayal, grasped the handle of his knife under his
cloak, and was ready to use it on the instant. But the Indian remained
standing, while Tom, still moving away in his indifferent manner, soon
passed beyond his view.

"I guess he's stopped to think," was the conclusion of the scout, as he
looked back in the gloom, "and it'll be some time before he's through."

But the trouble now remained as to how he should pass through the Apache
lines beyond. If the redskins had any suspicion of any such movement, or
if the warrior whom he had just left were suspicious, serious trouble
was at hand.

The hunter sauntered aimlessly along, using his eyes and ears, and a
walk of something over a hundred yards brought him up against a number
of figures that were stretched out and sitting upon the ground, with
several standing near at hand.

They showed no surprise at their "brother's" approach, and he was
confident that, if they didn't undertake to cross-question him too
closely, he stood a good chance of getting through. As they were
gathered too closely at this point he made a turn to the right, and, to
his amazement, not a word was said or the least notice taken of him, as
he walked directly by. That was succeeding, indeed; but Tom was not yet
ready to leave the neighborhood. He wanted his horse, Thundergust, and,
once astride of him, his heart would be light as a bird; but in looking
around he could not discern a single horse.

It would be useless to attempt to reach Fort Havens on foot. The Apaches
would detect his flight by daylig