He concluded that if the Indian made him a visit it would be from another direction, and so he shifted his position somewhat, managing to face the other way, while he kept all his senses on the _qui vive_ for the hostile visit which he was confident would not be long delayed. At the same time he had a strong hope that the scouts would return in time to prevent any such encounter as he pictured in his own mind, and which he thoroughly dreaded. In his excited mental condition it was impossible to judge accurately of the passage of time, but it seemed to him that he had been in waiting fully fifteen minutes, yet not the slightest sound reached him from that direction. The lad remained in a state of suspense which was intensified by his fears of a flank movement upon the part of the Apache whom he had seen but a short time before. "It must take them a long time to make a reconnaissance--" He suddenly ceased, for his ear, more than usually alert, caught a slight but suspicious sound, and quick as a flash he turned his head. He was not an instant too soon, for there was the crouching figure of the Apache warrior, no more than a dozen feet distant, his gleaming knife clutched in his right hand, and his eyes fairly aflame with passion. He was not moving along inch by inch, but with that soft gliding motion, which was more like the approach of a serpent than of a person. Ned still held his rifle with the hammer raised, and ready for just such an emergency. Partly expecting the visit, he was fully prepared. When he turned his head and encountered the gaze of the Indian, the latter gave utterance to a low gutteral exclamation, and started more rapidly toward him. "If you must have it, there it is." The flash from the muzzle of the rifle was almost in the face of the Apache, who, with a death-shriek horrible to hear, threw both arms above his head, and, with a spasmodic twitching of the limbs, breathed his last in a single breath. Ned was scarcely less terrified than the redskin must have been at the first flash of the gun; and, forgetful of the warning of the scouts, he leaped out from beneath the bushes, and dashed away in the direction taken by his friends. He had run but a rod or two when he suddenly found himself face to face with Tom Hardynge, who demanded, in a hurried undertone: "What's up, now?" "I've just shot an Indian." "Did you wipe him out?" "Oh, yes; oh, yes." "Then what are you running away from him for? If you've wiped him out, he can't hurt you." "But I don't want to stay near him," added the lad, who was in a distressing state of anxiety; "take me away." "That's just what I'm going to do," replied the hunter, turning about and hurrying off. "Keep close to me and I will take care of you."