pointed to a dark form by the
fire. It appeared to be the body of a man, prostrate and asleep.

"_Santisima_, it is!" replied the zambo. "Snug by the fire too. He
_is_ a fool! but, sure enough, he could have no thought of our following
him in a night so dark as this."

"Hwish, dam! dog not there, guero ours! No more talk, boy Pepe! follow
me!"

The mulatto headed his horse, not direct for the grove, but for a point
on the bank of the river some distance below. They rode silently, but
now with more rapidity.

Their victim was just where they would have wished him, and they were in
a hurry to take advantage of his situation. The nature of the ground
was well-known to both, for they had shot deer from the cover of that
very copse.

On arriving at the river bank, both dismounted; and having tied both
their horses and dogs to the willows, they commenced moving forward in
the direction of the grove.

They observed less caution than they might otherwise have done. They
felt certain their victim was asleep by the fire. Fool, they thought
him! but then how was he to have suspected their presence? The most
cunning might have deemed himself secure under such circumstances. It
was natural enough that he had gone to sleep, wearied as no doubt he
was. Natural, too, that he had kindled a fire. The night had become
unpleasantly cold, and it would have been impossible to sleep without a
fire. All that seemed natural enough.

They reached the edge of the grove, and without hesitation crawled into
the underwood.

The night was still, the breeze scarce turned a leaf, and the slightest
rustling among the bushes could have been heard in any part of the
glade. A low murmur of water from a distant rapid, a light ripple in
the nearer stream, the occasional howl of the prairie wolf, and the
dismal wailing of nightbirds, were the only sounds that fell upon the
ear.

But although the man-stalkers were making their way through thick
underwood, not a sound betokened their advance. There was no rustling
of leaves, no snapping of twigs, no crackling of dead sticks under the
pressure of hand or knee, no signs of human presence within that dark
shrubbery. These men well knew how to thread the thicket. Silent, as
the snake glides through the grass, was their advance.

In the glade reigned perfect silence. In its very centre blazed a large
fire that lit up the whole surface with its brilliant flames. It was
easy to distin