vered, the abandoned
village took on a ghostly appearance. Nearly all the wall opposite that
against which they lay was gone, and, as it faced the larger part of the
village, they could see the ruined wigwams and the skeleton frames that
had been used for drying game. Out of the forest came the long lonesome
howl of a wolf, some ragged, desolate creature that had not yet found
shelter with his kind. The effect upon everyone was instantaneous and
the same. This flight from the Indians and the slaying of the great
hound by Tom Ross with his silver bullet came back in vivid colors.

But the howl was not repeated and the steady drip of the cold rain
remained unbroken. It gathered finally in little puddles on the floor
not far from them, but their own corner remained dry and impervious.
They noticed these things little, however, as the mystic and ghostly
effect of the village was deepening. Seen through the twilight and the
rain it was now but a phantom. Henry's mind, always so sensitive to the
things of the forest, repeopled it. From under his drooping lids he saw
the warriors coming in from the hunt or the chase, the women tanning
skins or curing game, and the little Indian boys practicing with bows
and arrows. He felt a sort of sympathy for them in this wild life, a
life that he knew so well and that he had lived himself. But he came
quickly out of his waking dream, because his acute ear had heard
something not normal moving in the forest. He straightened up and his
hand slid to the breech of his rifle. He listened for a few minutes and
then glanced at Shif'less Sol.

"Someone comes our way," said Henry.

"Yes," said Shif'less Sol, "but it ain't more'n two or three. Thar, you
kin hear the footsteps ag'in, an' their bodies brushing ag'in' the wet
bushes."

"Three at the utmost," said Henry, "so we'll sit here and wait."

It was not necessary to tell them to be ready with their weapons. That
was a matter of course with every borderer in such moments. So the five
remained perfectly still in a sitting position, every one with his back
pressed against the bark wall, a blanket wrapped around his figure, and
a cocked rifle resting upon his knees. They were so quick that in the
darkness and falling rain they might have passed for so many Indian
mummies, had it not been for the long slender-barreled rifles and their
threatening muzzles.

Yet nobody could have been more alert than they. Five pairs of trained
ears listened fo