The two were soon upon the ground. The spot where the missing soldier's lance was found was carefully examined, but there was no trace of conflict or other unusual occurrence. The approaches to the picket line from the enemy's direction were closely scanned. Nothing suspicious was seen. The ground for some distance between the Pixie and Brownie camps was at this point flat and smooth. Unable to solve the mystery, the Captain ordered another sentinel to be placed. "See that he is a good man, one of the brightest and most careful in the ranks," said Bruce. Accordingly Sergeant Vigilant assigned Private Sharpsight to the vacant post. "And, be sure, Sergeant," said the Captain, as he turned away, "that you keep a bright lookout upon your sentinels during the watch, especially on this one." Scarcely an hour had passed ere Captain Bruce heard the sharp challenge of the sentinel before his tent door: "Who goes there?" "Sergeant Vigilant of the picket guard." Bruce rose from his couch without waiting to be called, and left the tent. "Well, what is it? Speak!" "The second sentinel is gone!" "Sharpsight gone?" "Aye; not a sign or sound of him anywhere. I visited the picket once within an hour after he was stationed. All was then well. But I felt restless and nervous about the disappearance of Standwhile, and a few moments ago returned. Sharpsight had vanished as mysteriously as the other!" "Call out the guard!" cried Bruce, snatching his broadsword and striding off toward the picket line. "Keep this matter as quiet as possible. It won't do to alarm the camp." [Illustration: FIG. 111.--"The Horizontal Snare of a Young Uloborus Among the Laurels."] Every bush, and clump of grass, weed, stone, stock, or other place that could possibly give shelter to friend or foe, Brownie or Pixie, within a wide circuit of the fatal picket post, was thoroughly explored. Nothing more dangerous was found than the horizontal snare of a young Uloborus among the laurels and a few young Furrow spiders. The latter lay within their silken tubes which were snugly embosomed within a dainty tuft of dry moss, or tucked within the folds of rolled leaves or curled birch bark, with a trap line strung from the openings to nearby round webs. The Brownies were no wiser than before. The mystery was unsolved. "Shall we place another picket?" asked Sergeant Vigilant. "It must be done," answered the Captain. "But call for volunteers." "You see how it is, my good fellows," said the Sergeant turning to the guard. "Two of our men are gone. Where, how, nobody knows. There is foul play somewhere, and the sort that leaves no trail. The next picket may uncover the villainy, or he may go the way of the others. I shall not draft any one to this post unless necessary. Who will volunteer? Step out!" [Illustration: FIG. 112.--"Snugly Embosomed Within a Dainty Tuft of Dry Moss."]