A terrible thought it indeed was that had thus come to him--the idea of that demoniac being who had sprung at them on the previous night, and had only been repelled by what seemed almost a miracle, being still animated by furious hate and a thirst for vengeance,--the idea of this implacable savage, thirsting for their blood, following stealthily on their trail all that day, maintaining his pursuit with that inexhaustible patience and tenacity of purpose which a bloodthirsty savage alone can show when on the search for vengeance. Had he indeed done this? Had this been the secret history of that day? Was this blood-hound indeed on their track? Could it have been possible that he had devoted them one by one to destruction, and had bided his time, and had made Phil his first victim the moment he wandered away from the others? It was a horrible, a sickening thought. Now, Bart’s mind was full of stories of Indian warfare and Indian vengeance, accumulated during a course of reading in Cooper’s Leatherstocking series, and kindred works; and so it is no wonder that this idea came to him. Besides, he had yet fresh and vivid in his mind the assault of that drunken fiend the night before. All these things combined to fix this fearful idea in his mind. As the hours passed on it became more deeply seated, until at length he was in an indescribable state of anxiety and alarm. Thus the hours of that night passed away--a night even worse than the preceding one; for then the terror had come and gone; but now it hung over them all the time. In addition to this, the night itself was most depressing. It was intensely dark. After the fire had died out, it was impossible to see anything whatever--not even the hand before the face. The deepest shadows surrounded them on all sides, and wherever they looked their eyes encountered nothing but the blackness of darkness. Besides this, it was exceedingly hot and sultry, the air having a certain indescribable oppressiveness which made them sometimes fairly gasp for breath. The only relief that they were able to gain was by making frequent applications to the water of the river, sometimes dashing it over their faces, at other times dipping in their heads, or feet. This sultriness oppressed them all in an equal degree, and united with the intense darkness to throw them into a state of bewilderment and perplexity. Taken in connection with Phil’s disappearance and the terrible event of the preceding night, it produced such an effect upon the mind of Bart, that all the fears which were suggested by his vivid fancy became more formidable and irresistible. Solomon said nothing at all, but appeared to be quite overwhelmed. Pat alone struggled against the evil influences of the time, and endeavored most energetically to put the best appearance on things, and to rouse Bart from the deep gloom into which he had fallen. So the night passed; and it was at length with