The youth marked out a beat for himself parallel with the brook and two or three rods in length. Sometimes he paused and, leaning on his gun, peered into the hollow gloom which inclosed him on every hand. He knew that so long as he kept on his feet he would not fall asleep, but if he sat down the lapse was inevitable. Better still to walk to and fro, as is the practice of the sentinel, for while doing so he was safe against the insidious weakness which steals the senses from the most rugged man ere he is aware. George did not believe that any danger threatened the camp unless of the nature hinted by Deerfoot. It might be that some wandering Miamis or Wyandots or Shawanoes had observed the little party and their horses and cast covetous eyes upon the latter. If so, they would not dare to proceed to violence, but might try to run off one or two of the animals, hoping to get far enough away with them before discovery of the theft to make pursuit useless. It was this apprehension which kept the youth alert and watchful. George Shelton had paced to and fro for more than an hour without hearing or seeing anything to excite misgiving. The cry of a wolf in the distance and the nearer scream of a panther were given scarcely a thought, for both were too common to cause alarm. The first disturbance came from the action of his horse Jack, who had lain down at a point farther off than the others. All the animals seemed to be resting quietly, when, at the moment the lad was nearest his own and was about to turn to retrace his steps, Jack raised his head and emitted a slight whinny, though none of the others showed any disquiet. The sentinel paused and looked at his pony, dimly outlined in the darkness. He saw he had raised his head and appeared to be interested in something on the other side of the brook. George lifted the hammer of his rifle, suspecting that some prowling wolf or other wild beast was trying to creep nigh enough to assail the horses. The youth peered into the gloom and listened, but all remained as silent as the grave. He held his motionless position for several minutes, in doubt what he ought to do, if indeed he could do anything. Then with rare courage he began slowly walking toward the point in which Jack seemed interested, holding his gun ready to raise and fire on the instant. He reached the brook and was about to leap lightly across when the figure of an Indian rose from the grass and stood revealed hardly ten feet distant. He did not move, and seemed to have come up from a hole in the earth. The sight was so startling to the lad that he stopped abruptly and exclaimed in a low tone: “Helloa! Who are you?” “Howdy, brudder?” replied the redskin in the same guarded voice. “What do you want, stealing into our camp like this!” “Me Par-o-wan—friend of paleface—me brudder.”