n's mind like a
flame of fire.

"Thunder-maker!" he exclaimed. "The treacherous hound! This is his work.
I was wakened by something before. He must have been letting loose his
vile creatures."

Just then the snakes returned unpleasantly near to the men's heads
again, so further conversation was impossible, for it is remarkable what
little sound will attract a serpent's attention, and the nature of a
rattler is to regard every sound and movement as something dangerous to
be fought.

For more than an hour the men lay in strained positions, watching the
writhing movements of the ugly creatures, and wondering how long the
position could be sustained.

And then, just when it seemed that the situation could not be supported
another minute, they became aware of a sound of soft whistling at no
great distance from the rear of the tent. At first the sound was quite
low, and barely audible, but gradually it increased in volume until it
took the form of a sort of minor tune of barbaric rhythm played on some
sort of reed instrument.

At the beginning the music was unheeded by the serpents, but as it
became more distinct it was observable that the creatures became
restless and uneasy. Now and then one would raise its head and begin to
sway gently to and fro, in agreement with the rhythm. But gradually each
seemed to be irresistibly drawn towards the back of the tent, as the
spell of their master's music fascinated them. One by one they passed in
one direction--moving slowly yet steadily in obedience to the call.

And as the last of the reptiles passed beneath the edge of the
tent-cloth both men sprang from their couches and rushed round to the
teepee that was pitched a little way behind their own.

But they found Thunder-maker reclining on a heap of robes and apparently
asleep; and not a sign was seen to suggest the presence of a "rattler."

So much for the art of the snake-charmer and the craft of an evil man.

[3] No.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PRICE OF A ROBE

Thunder-maker did not move while the strangers were watching him. To all
outward appearance he was asleep.

Holden stepped forward and shook the Medicine Man roughly by the
shoulder.

"Come along! Open your eyes, you old scoundrel. You are no more sleeping
than we are," he said.

The Indian moved, slowly opened his eyes, and looked for a few moments
at the speaker, just as a person would who had been suddenly roused from
a deep slumber. Then a pleased sm