t no more.
Strange that when it had spoken so clearly it should become silent, but
such was the fact.

Little did either suspect the cause.

CHAPTER III.

AN ABORIGINAL PLOT.

The boys tried the plan of Fred Linden; he swerved slightly to the left,
while Terry Clark made a sharp angle to the right. They never thought of
getting beyond hearing of each other, and, but for the plentiful
undergrowth they would have kept in sight. They had taken but a few
steps when Fred looked around and found that he was alone. He could hear
his young friend pushing his way among the trees, and once or twice he
caught snatches of a tune that he was whistling--that being a favorite
pastime of the lad when by himself.

"It's curious how he could make such a blunder," thought Fred, with a
smile to himself; "he will go tramping around the woods only to find
that he was nowhere in the neighborhood of the cow. Ah, the storm is not
yet over."

He was looking to the eastward, where the sky, as he caught a glimpse of
it among the treetops and branches, was as black as if overcast with one
huge thunder cloud.

"It was there it raged so violently last night, and the rain is falling
in torrents again. We shall find the creek a river when we go back."

The sturdy youth pressed on fully two hundred yards more, when the old
suspicion came back to him. There was something wrong. When he could not
explain some things he was satisfied that it was because there was an
element of evil in those things--something that boded ill to both him
and his friend.

"I have traveled far enough since hearing that bell to pass a long ways
beyond it," he said, compressing his lips and shaking his head; "and if
that was Brindle that rang it the first time, she would have done it the
second time."

Twice before Fred fancied he heard something moving among the
undergrowth a short distance in advance, and a little to one side. The
noise was now so distinct that he could no longer deceive himself;
there was some specific cause for it.

"I guess Terry has worked over this way, finding what a mistake he has
made--no! by gracious! it isn't Terry!"

Fred started in alarm, confident that it was an Indian that was moving
through the wood. It will be admitted that there was cause for his fear,
if such should prove to be the case, for he was without any firearms
with which to defend himself; but while he stood meditating whether he
should turn and take to his he