nterior while the light
was burning. He felt barely able to repress his disappointment, as he
was again compelled to devise some other plan. For once he had been
frustrated in his design, and he felt it keenly.

But he determined to risk a look at all hazards. The aperture was
completed; Kent raised his head and peered in--and betrayed himself.

Pequanon was at his place in the inside as usual, watching, in the
nobleness of his soul, the life of Rosalind. His quick ear detected the
noise, slight as it was, occasioned by Kent's labor. The latter
supposing the inmates of the lodge would be slumbering, hoped for an
opportunity to do what he wished. But Pequanon was on the alert, and
detected him at work. When his face was placed at the opening, it was
brought between the sky and the darkness of the lodge, and the Indian
plainly observed the outlines of his face. His first impulse was to
seize a rifle and shoot the intruder instantly, for he believed that it
was the one who sought the life of Rosalind; but checking himself, he
arose and passed out noiselessly, determined to satisfy himself before
action.

Two consummate hunters were now maneuvering against each other. The
movements of both with respect to themselves were as much at fault as
though they were inexperienced youngsters. The noise of Pequanon was so
slight that it failed to awake either Rosalind or any of the inmates;
yet Kent heard it distinctly, and crouched down upon the ground and
listened. In an instant he caught the step upon the outside. He knew
that he could spring to his feet and easily make his escape; but in
doing so, he would raise an alarm, and thus effectually prevent anything
of use being done by himself. He therefore withdrew some ten or fifteen
feet, and trusted that the Indian would not search further; but he was
mistaken. Pequanon was determined to satisfy himself in regard to
Rosalind's secret enemy; and espying the shadowy form gliding along from
him, he sprung toward it, hoping and expecting that it might leap to its
feet.

The form leaped to its feet in a manner that he little suspected. Kent
saw that an encounter was unavoidable, when, concentrating his strength,
he bounded like a panther toward the savage, bearing him to the earth,
with his iron hand clutching his throat. Pequanon struggled, but was
powerless, and could not make a sound above a painful gurgle. Kent
whipped out his knife, and had just aimed at his breast, when the sav