The boys stopped and got out their emergency kits. Out of each they produced a bundle of about fifty matches. “Ef these was the good old brimstone sticks they’d go better,” said Big John enigmatically, taking them in his big paw, “but I’ll make out with them, all right. You boys run along, now, an’ git as near Niltci’s tree as ye kin. Then lay low and watch my smoke.” He disappeared into the sage without a further word. Sid and Scotty looked at each other, puzzled, but they knew Big John had a mighty good head on him, and he would be unlikely to try anything that would not work. As they drew near Neyani’s hogan they redoubled their caution, crawling through the sage and taking advantage of every little ridge of rock. At length they were quite near Niltci’s tree and well concealed in a patch of scrub bear grass. They could make out the Indian boy’s blurred form, now, bound upright to the tree. Beside him on the ground squatted two Navaho guards, silent, motionless. They might be dead, for all the movement either made; but that they were quite awake and on watch the boys could not doubt. For a long time nothing happened. All the desert was still as death, shrouded in the gloom of a faint mist that hung over the barren ground. Overhead the stars swung in their great courses, but their light penetrated but feebly through the dust and mist and haze of smoke that drifted over from the ashes of the great fire. Then--“_Hist!_” whispered Scotty, at length, gripping Sid’s arm. “What’s _that_?” There, quite near,--over by a little nest of bowlders--_something moved_! Dim, dark, hardly discernible, a round, black head peered out, advancing fearsomely, with two phosphorescent disks of fire glaring at them, balefully!--Then a wild, mortal shriek rent the night! It was the Black Panther, himself! The boys tugged feverishly at their revolvers, their hair standing on end with fright. As for the two Navahos, one wild leap, one terror-stricken grunt of dismay, and they were off like the wind, bolting out into the sage. It was not until they were some distance away that they raised terrified screams of fright, running like deer as they yelled. The panther crept nearer, and, just as Sid was about to fire, Big John’s low voice called out to them reassuringly. “Don’t shoot!--Up an’ git young Niltci, boys!” he gritted.--“How did my fox-fire look?” Sid went nearly hysterical with the reaction. “Was that you, John? It was _great_! Simply great!” he chuckled, springing forward to wring the cowman’s hand. Bubbling with delight, they all dashed for Niltci. Swiftly his thongs were cut, and then, each grabbing an arm, they started for the canyon. “Run, fellers--I’m a good kitty, all right, but we ain’t got no time to lose!” whispered Big John, hoarsely.--“Listen!” Voices and yells came from hogans all about them. The night was hideous with uproar--then it suddenly ceased and all was silent again.