Red Wolf, an idle, drunken scamp, had been a fit instrument in Rody's hands to be employed as a messenger between him and the Indian girl. For these services Red Wolf received repeated compensation in gold. But the old story of the bad master becoming discontented with a bad servant was true in this case. Warren was afraid that Red Wolf would, in one of his drunken orgies, talk too much, and betray the secret with which he had entrusted him. So far, he was right; for it was whilst endeavouring to warn Nelatu of his sister's danger that Red Wolf made use of language about the girl. He had reviled Nelatu's sister while traducing his friend. The issue is already known. Wicked were Warren's thoughts as he stood, rifle in hand, watching the two. If Red Wolf--and he recognised him at once--were removed in the very act of killing Nelatu, a dangerous tongue would be for ever silenced, while Nelatu's friendship would be further secured, and Sansuta eventually become his. The decision was taken, the bullet sent through Red Wolf's brain, and Warren Rody accomplished a part of his design. Having succeeded so far, it was terribly mortifying to find that one clear-sighted individual had penetrated his schemes, and, without appearing to do so, had placed a restraint upon the otherwise warm sense of gratitude with which Nelatu regarded him. All this Cris Carrol had done, and therefore Warren Rody was angry with him. He left the cabin vowing vengeance upon Carrol, and casting about for the means to accomplish it. He had not long to wait, or far to seek. At the end of the bye-road upon which the backwoodsman's dwelling stood, he encountered the very tool suitable for his purpose. It was in the person of a negro, with a skin black as Erebus, who was seen perched upon the top of a tall fence. He was odd enough looking to attract the attention of the most careless traveller. His head, denuded of the old ragged piece of felt he called hat, was unusually large, and covered with an enormous shock of tightly-curling wool. This did not, however, conceal the apeish form of the skull, that bore a strong resemblance to that of a chimpanzee. Rolling and sparkling in a field of white, were eyes preternaturally large, and wickedly expressive, above a nose and mouth of the strongest African type. His arms were ludicrously long, and seemed by their unusual proportions to make up for the shortness, and impish form of the body. He was whistling in a discordant strain some wild melody, and kicking his heels about like one possessed. As Warren Rody approached, he paused in his ear-splitting music, and leaped nimbly from his perch, whilst flourishing his tattered felt in a sort of salutation. It might have been observed that he was lame, and the few halting steps he took imparted a droll, hobbling motion to his diminutive body. His dress was a curious warp of rags--woven, as it were--upon a still more ragged woof.