them, a lunar
wreck, sometimes on her beam ends, sometimes half submerged, once more
gallantly struggling to the surface, and again sunk. The bare boughs of
the trees beat together in a dirgelike monotone. Now and again a leaf
went sibilantly whistling past. The wild commotion of the heavens and
earth was visible, for the night was not dark. The ranger, standing
within the rude stable of unhewn logs, all undaubed, noted how pale were
the horizontal bars of gray light alternating with the black logs of the
wall. He was giving the mare a feed of corn, but he had not brought his
lantern, as was his custom. That mysterious espionage had in some sort
shaken his courage, and he felt the obscurity a shield. He had brought,
instead, his rifle.

The equine form was barely visible among the glooms. Now and then,
as the mare noisily munched, she lifted a hoof and struck it upon the
ground with a dull thud. How the gusts outside were swirling up the
gorge! The pines swayed and sighed. Again the boughs of the chestnut-oak
above the roof crashed together. Did a fitful blast stir the door?

He lifted his eyes mechanically. A cold thrill ran through every fibre.
For there, close by the door, somebody--something--was peering through
the space between the logs of the wall. The face was invisible, but the
shape of a man's head was distinctly defined. He realized that it was no
supernatural manifestation when a husky voice began to call the mare, in
a hoarse whisper, "Cobe! Cobe! Cobe!" With a galvanic start he was about
to spring forward to hold the door. A hand from without was laid upon
it.

He placed the muzzle of his gun between the logs, a jet of red light was
suddenly projected into the darkness, the mare was rearing and plunging
violently, the little shanty was surcharged with roar and reverberation,
and far and wide the crags and chasms echoed the report of the rifle.

There was a vague clamor outside, an oath, a cry of pain. Hasty
footfalls sounded among the dead leaves and died in the distance.

When the ranger ventured out he saw the door of his house wide open, and
the firelight flickering out among the leafless bushes. His wife met him
halfway down the hill.

"Air ye hurt, Tobe?" she cried. "Did yer gun go off suddint?"

"Mighty suddint," he replied, savagely.

"Ye didn't fire it a-purpose?" she faltered.

"Edzactly so," he declared.

"Ye never hurt nobody, did ye, Tobe?" She had turned very pale. "I
'lowed it co