ock, announcing that the neighboring cavern had at length
been entered. In a minute, the number and loudness of the voices
indicated that the whole party was collected in and around that secret
place.

As the inner passages to the two caves were so close to each other,
Duncan, believing that escape was no longer possible, passed David and
the sisters, to place himself between the latter and the first onset of
the terrible meeting. Grown desperate by his situation, he drew nigh the
slight barrier which separated him only by a few feet from his
relentless pursuers, and placing his face to the casual opening, he even
looked out, with a sort of desperate indifference, on their movements.

Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder of a gigantic Indian,
whose deep and authoritative voice appeared to give directions to the
proceedings of his fellows. Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the
vault opposite, which was filled with savages, upturning and rifling the
humble furniture of the scout. The wound of David had dyed the leaves of
sassafras with a color that the natives well knew was anticipating the
season. Over this sign of their success, they set up a howl, like an
opening from so many hounds who had recovered a lost trail. After this
yell of victory, they tore up the fragrant bed of the cavern, and bore
the branches into the chasm, scattering the boughs, as if they suspected
them of concealing the person of the man they had so long hated and
feared. One fierce and wild-looking warrior approached the chief
bearing a load of the brush, and pointing, exultingly, to the deep red
stains with which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in Indian yells,
whose meaning Heyward was only enabled to comprehend by the frequent
repetition of the name of "La Longue Carabine!" When his triumph had
ceased, he cast the brush on the slight heap that Duncan had made before
the entrance of the second cavern, and closed the view. His example was
followed by others, who, as they drew the branches from the cave of the
scout, threw them into one pile, adding, unconsciously, to the security
of those they sought. The very slightness of the defence was its chief
merit, for no one thought of disturbing a mass of brush, which all of
them believed, in that moment of hurry and confusion, had been
accidentally raised by the hands of their own party.

As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, and the branches
settled in the fissure of