llet dug into the earth just beyond
us.

Diccon swore beneath his breath. "It struck deep," he muttered. "The
dark is slow in coming."

A minute later, as I ran with my head over my shoulder, I saw our
pursuer, dimly, like a deeper shadow in the shadows far down the arcade
behind us. There was but one man,--a tall warrior, strayed aside from
his band, perhaps, or bound upon a warpath of his own. The musket that
he carried some English fool had sold him for a mess of pottage.

Putting forth all our strength, we ran for our lives, and for the lives
of many others. Before us the pine wood sloped down to a deep and wide
thicket, and beyond the thicket a line of sycamores promised water. If
we could reach the thicket, its close embrace would hide us,--then the
darkness and the stream. A third shot, and Diccon staggered slightly.

"For God's sake, not struck, man?" I cried.

"It grazed my arm," he panted. "No harm done. Here's the thicket!"

Into the dense growth we broke, reckless of the blood which the sharp
twigs drew from face and hands. The twigs met in a thick roof over our
heads; that was all we cared for, and through the network we saw one of
the larger stars brighten into being. The thicket was many yards across.
When we had gone thirty feet down we crouched and waited for the dark.
If our enemy followed us, he must do so at his peril, with only his
knife for dependence.

One by one the stars swam into sight, until the square of sky above us
was thickly studded. There was no sound, and no living thing could have
entered that thicket without noise. For what seemed an eternity,
we waited; then we rose and broke our way through the bushes to the
sycamores, to find that they indeed shadowed a little sluggish stream.

Down this we waded for some distance before taking to dry earth again.
Since entering the thicket we had seen and heard nothing suspicious,
and were now fain to conclude that the dark warrior had wearied of the
chase, and was gone on his way toward his mates and that larger and
surer quarry which two suns would bring. Certain it is that we saw no
more of him.

The stream flowing to the south, we went with it, hurrying along its
bank, beneath the shadow of great trees, with the stars gleaming down
through the branches. It was cold and still, and far in the distance we
heard wolves hunting. As for me, I felt no weariness. Every sense
was sharpened; my feet were light; the keen air was like wine in th