stepped upon him. Not satisfied with his first position,
he shifted further to the right, and lay down to wait and watch.

A gradual obscuring of the sky caused him to look at his watch. Could it
be possible? The autumn afternoon was almost gone. Night was at hand,
whereas he had supposed several hours of daylight remained. Thus
valuable time had slipped past and nothing had been done for Fred
Greenwood.

From where Jack lay he had a perfect view of the upper gate, as it may
be called, of the canyon. The gorge has already been described as narrow
at the point where the foamy waters dashed through and expanded into the
broad pool, after which they flowed a short way and reunited, to make
their next plunge between the mountain walls on their journey to the sea
thousands of miles distant. Looking across this break, the boy could
penetrate with his eye for a dozen yards into the upper canyon. He saw
the dripping rocks upon which the angry buck sprang, only to pause and
turn back to join his companions below.

A curious thing happened. Jack was looking in the direction named, when,
with startling suddenness, an Indian shot into sight on the furthest
rock, beyond which the canyon made a sweeping curve that shut off
further view. His appearance was like the upleaping of a Jack-in-the-box
at the touch of the spring, but the explanation was evident: he was
making his way down the gorge from above, when his leap from one rock to
another brought him thus abruptly into view.

This was interesting of itself, but a still more interesting discovery
came with the second glance at him. He was Motoza, the Sioux!

It looked as if Hank Hazletine, with all his subtlety and woodcraft, had
failed to do that which came of itself to Jack Dudley.

The actions of the Sioux showed he was unusually careful about being
seen as he emerged from the canyon into fuller view, for, after leaping
to the rock which stood at the door of the gorge, he stood a minute,
then leaned forward and peered around the sides as far as he could
without losing his balance. He next stood erect and looked keenly across
the pool, and apparently at the very spot where the boy lay hiding.

"What a face!" muttered Jack; "I never saw one so ugly, with those daubs
of paint; and his eyes shine just like that rattlesnake's we killed. It
can't be he sees me," added the youth in alarm, as he cowered still
lower; "one would think he could look through a stone."

But nothing le