followed,
perhaps, by a repetition of the first-named sounds, varied
occasionally by a compound of all, caused by the animal flinging its
head to free itself from troublesome flies or mosquitoes. The bell in
question, however, gave no such sounds _as these_, and it was this
fact which filled the missionary with a sudden, terrible dread.

Suppose a person take one of these bells in his hand, and give a
steady, _uninterrupted_ motion. The consequence must be a regular,
unvarying, monotonous sound, which any ear can distinguish from the
natural one caused by the animal itself. It was a steady tink, tink,
tink, that the bell in question sent forth.

The missionary stood but a moment; then dashing into the house, he
took down his ever-loaded rifle and ran in the direction of the sound.
In his hurry, he forgot powder-horn and bullet, and had, as a
consequence, but a single charge in his rifle. He had gone scarcely a
hundred yards, when he encountered the goat returning home. One glance
showed there was _no bell_ to its neck, while that ominous tink, tink,
tink, came through the woods as uninterruptedly as before.

The father now broke into a swifter run, almost losing his presence of
mind from his great, agonizing fear. The picture of the Indian, whom
he had felled to the floor, when he insulted his wife years before,
rose before him, and he saw his child already struggling in the
savage's merciless grasp. Nearer and nearer he approached the sound,
until he suddenly paused, conscious that it was but a short distance
away. Hurrying stealthily but rapidly several rods to the right, the
whole thing was almost immediately made plain to him.

Two trees, from some cause or other, had fallen to the ground in a
parallel direction and within a yard of each other. Between the trunks
of these an Indian was crouched, who held the goat-bell in his left
hand, and caused the sound which so startled the father. The savage
had his back turned toward the missionary, and appeared to be looking
in the opposite direction, as if he were waiting the appearance of
some one.

While the father stood gazing at this, he saw his boy come to view
about fifty feet the other side of the Indian, and, as if wearied with
his unusual hunt, seat himself upon a log. As soon as the boy was
visible, the savage--whom Richter recognized at once as the same man
that he had felled to the floor of his cabin, four years
before--called into use a little common sens