That afternoon toward sundown the expedition reached the point where
the fugitive had made her appeal to Grom. For fear of giving
information to the unknown enemy, no fires were lighted. The night was
passed in a dense and lofty tree-top. For Grom, strung up with
excitement, suspense and curiosity, there was little sleep. For the
most part he perched on his woven platform with his arms about his
knees, listening to the sounds of the night--the occasional sudden
rush of a hunting beast, the agonized scream and scuffle, the
gurglings and noisy slaverings that told of the unseen tragedies
enacted far down in the murderous dark. But there was no sound novel
to his own experience. Once there came a scratching of claws and a
sniffing at the base of the tree.

But Grom dropped a live coal from his fire-basket, and chanced to make
a lucky shot. With a snarl some heavy body bounced away from the tree.
The coal then fell into a tuft of dry grass, which flared up suddenly.
Grom had a glimpse of huge shapes and startled, savage eyes backing
away from the circle of light. The blaze died down as quickly as it
had arisen; and thereafter the night prowlers kept at a distance from
the tree. But the sleepers had all been thoroughly aroused and till
dawn they sat discussing, for the hundredth time, the chances of the
morrow's venture.

Before the sun was clear of the horizon, the little party was again
upon the march, but now going with the wariness of a sable. They no
longer went Indian file, but flitting singly from tree to tree, from
covert to covert, Grom picking up the old trail of the fugitive, the
rest of the party keeping him in view and peering ahead for some sign
of the unknown Terror. The red woman in her flight had left a sharp
trail enough; but in the lapse of three days it had been so
obliterated that all Grom's wood-craft was needed to decipher it, and
his progress was slow. He began to be puzzled at the absence of any
other trail, of any footsteps of a mysterious, unknown monster. Such
tracks as crossed those of the fugitive, however terrible, were all
familiar to his eye.

Suddenly he almost stumbled over a hideous sight. A low whistle
brought his followers closing in upon him. The skeleton of a
full-grown man lay outstretched in the grass. The bones were
fresh--bloodstained and bright--and a swarm of blood-sucking insects
arose from them. They were picked minutely clean, except for a portion
of the skull, where th