e, "has arrove when we must commence business, and I
allow that we must be at it soon. Here's your part. You are to stay here
till I come back. I am goin' down into their nest to hunt her up, and
when I come back you'll know whether she's to be got or not. Keep quiet,
and don't stir from this spot till I give you the order. Remember, if
we're goin' to do anythin', you must do as I tell you. Take care of
yourself."

With these words the hunter departed--departed so silently and
stealthily, that Leslie hardly comprehended that he was gone.

Kent, while it was yet light, had taken a survey of the village, and
viewed it, too, with a scout's eye. He had distinguished the chief's
lodge from the others, and rightly conjectured that this would be the
most likely to contain Rosalind. Accordingly, he determined to direct
his footsteps toward it, before looking in any other direction. This was
situated in the center. He was, consequently, exposed to greater danger
in reaching it; yet he placed great reliance upon his disguise, which he
yet assumed, and determined to venture within the village in a short
time.

He stood at the extreme end, and now and then could discern a shadowy
form passing silently before him, or, perhaps, the voice of some warrior
or squaw; but soon these sights and sounds ceased, and he commenced
moving forward. Not a savage was encountered until he stood before the
lodge for which he was seeking. He had now reached the point where his
most subtle powers of cunning were called into requisition, yet thought
not of hesitating.

Standing a second in front of the lodge, he glanced about him, but not a
form was to be seen. Had he been observed he must have been taken for an
Indian, and attracted no further notice. Kent being certain that his way
was clear, sunk to the earth, and lying upon his face, worked himself
slowly and cautiously toward the lodge. He seemed to glide precisely
like a serpent, so easy and silent were his motions. In a moment he was
beside it, and, as he believed, within ten feet of the object of his
search. A dim light was burning. By its light he hoped to satisfy
himself shortly of the truth of his conjectures. Running the keen point
of his knife along the skin that formed the lodge, he had pierced it
enough to admit his gaze, when the light was suddenly extinguished.

For a moment the hunter's calculations were at fault. He had not counted
upon this, but had hoped to gain a view of the i