ed it down
the river.

Though I could not rid myself of a certain sensation of horror, when I
found that I had actually taken a human life, I was well satisfied with
what I had done. My frame trembled with emotion and excitement as I
hastened to load my rifle again. I expected that the sound of the shot
would bring the other Indian to the spot, and I nervously awaited his
approach; but he did not appear. As the first Indian had come to the
creek to obtain food, his companion doubtless supposed he had fired at
some game. The wind wafted the smell of smoke to me, and I surmised
that the savage at the camp was preparing to cook the fish or game
which the other was to obtain.

The sun went down, and it began to be dark in the shades of the forest.
I had become composed and resolute again, after waiting half an hour
for the coming of the other redskin. I had arrived at the conclusion
that it was not worth while to return to the Castle for the soldiers. I
was sure that the Indian at the camp fire would soon come down to the
creek to ascertain what had become of his companion. To prevent him
from stumbling upon me, I retreated a little farther from the stream
into the forest. I could not be mistaken in my calculation, which was
soon verified by the sound of footsteps in the direction of the Indian
camp.

I found my heart beating violently again, and I dreaded the necessity
of shooting the savage almost as much as I did the consequences if I
failed to do so. It was still light enough for me to see him distinctly
when he made his appearance on the bank of the brook. I raised my rifle
with the intention of firing the instant he stopped long enough to
enable me to insure my aim, for I had not confidence enough to shoot
while he was in motion. But I was so agitated that I was not in
condition to do justice to my own skill. The savage walked rapidly to
the bank of the creek, and halted, looking up and down in search of the
dugout and his companion.

"Ugh!" grunted he, in order to express his dissatisfaction at the long
absence of his associate, I suppose.

Then he shouted, and waited for a response from his absent friend; but
he did not hold still long enough to enable me to cover his head with
the muzzle of my piece. I was so excited by the consideration of the
fatal consequences to me, and perhaps to Ella, if I failed to bring him
down, that I had not pluck enough to fire. I had slain one man, and it
was awful to think of k