the motions of the stranger,
and lay perfectly still--only tightening his grasp on the knife-handle
that he had been instinctively holding when he dropped asleep.

The night was too dark for Fred to distinguish the man's features. He
could only perceive the outline of his black figure, and that for some
time he rested on his elbow without moving, as if he were contemplating
the stars. Despite his efforts to keep awake, Fred felt that drowsiness
was again slowly, but surely, overcoming him. Maintaining the struggle,
however, he kept his dreamy eyes riveted on their guest until he seemed
to swell into gigantic proportions.

Presently Fred was again thoroughly aroused by observing that the right
arm of the man moved slowly upwards, and something like a knife appeared
in the hand; he even fancied he saw it gleam, though there was not light
enough to render that possible.

Feeling restrained, as if under the horrible influence of nightmare,
Fred lay there spell-bound and quite unable to move, until he perceived
the stranger's form bend over in the direction of Paul Bevan, who lay on
the other side of him.

Then, indeed, Fred's powers returned. Shouting, "look out, Paul!" he
sprang up, drew his bowie-knife, and leaped over the blackened logs,
but, to his surprise and confusion, found that the stranger lay extended
on the ground as if sound asleep. He roused himself, however, and sat
up, as did the others, on hearing Fred's shout.

"Fat is wrong, yoong man?" he inquired, with a look of sleepy surprise.

"Ye may well ax that, sor," said Flinders, staggering to his feet and
seizing his axe, which always lay handy at his side. Paul had glanced
round sharply, like a man inured to danger, but seeing nothing to alarm
him, had remained in a sitting position.

"Why, Westly, you've been dreaming," he said with a broad grin.

"So I must have been," returned the youth, looking very much ashamed,
"but you've no notion what a horrible dream I had. It seemed so real,
too, that I could not help jumping up and shouting. Pardon me,
comrades, and, as bad boys say when caught in mischief, `I won't do it
again!'"

"Ve pardon you, by all means," said the botanist stretching himself and
yawning, "and ve do so vid de more pleasure for you has rouse us in time
for start on de joorney."

"You're about right. It's time we was off," said Paul, rising slowly to
his feet and looking round the horizon and up at the sky, while he
procee