he
place occupied by the men, and that where their horses were staked.
This "neutral" ground was little used by the camp loungers, and
somewhere on the edge of it I was desirous of making my _entree_.

I succeeded to my utmost wishes. Closely hugging the bank, I passed the
browsing mustangs--under their very noses I glided past, for I could
hear them munching the herbage right over me--but so silently did I
steal along, that neither snort nor hoof-stroke heralded my advance.

In a few minutes, I was sufficiently beyond them for my purpose.

I raised my head; slowly and gently I raised it, till my eyes were above
the level of the prairie slope.

No one was near. I could see the swarth savages grouped around their
fires; but they were a hundred yards off, or more. They were capering,
and talking, and laughing; but no ear was bent, and no eye seemed turned
towards me. No one was near.

I grasped the bank with my hands, and drew myself up. Slowly and
silently I ascended, like some demon from the dark trap-door of a stage.

On my knees, I reached the level of the turf; and, then gently rising to
my feet, I stood erect within the limits of the Indian camp--to all
appearance as complete a savage as any upon the ground!

CHAPTER NINETY TWO.

COUP-D'OEIL OF THE CAMP.

For some minutes I stood motionless as a statue; I stirred neither hand
nor foot, lest the movement should catch the eye either of the
horse-guards or those moving around the fires.

I had already donned my plumed head-dress, before climbing out of the
channel: and after getting on the bank, my first thought was to replace
my pistols in the belt behind my back.

The movement was stealthily made; and with like stealthy action, I
suffered the mantle of jaguar-skins to drop from my shoulders, and hang
to its full length. I had saved the robe from getting wet; and its
ample skirt now served me in concealing my soaked breech-cloth as well
as the upper half of my leggings. These and the moccasins were, of
course, saturated with water, but I had not much uneasiness about that.
In a prairie camp, and upon the banks of a deep stream, an Indian with
wet leggings could not be a spectacle to excite suspicion; there would
be many reasons why my counterpart might choose to immerse his
copper-coloured extremities in the river. Moreover, the buckskin--
dressed Indian-fashion--was speedily casting the water; it would soon
drip dry; or even if wet, would sca