ed to trees, and all the savages save one lay down and slept. I
worked awhile at my bonds; but an Indian had tied them, and after a time
I desisted from the useless labor. We two could have no speech together;
the fire was between us, and we saw each other but dimly through the
flame and wreathing smoke,--as each might see the other to-morrow. What
Diccon's thoughts were I know not; mine were not of the morrow.

There had been no rain for a long time, and the multitude of leaves
underfoot were crisp and dry. The wind was loud in them and in the
swaying trees. Off in the forest was a bog, and the will-o'-the-wisps
danced over it,--pale, cold flames, moving aimlessly here and there like
ghosts of those lost in the woods. Toward the middle of the night some
heavy animal crashed through a thicket to the left of us, and tore away
into the darkness over the loud-rustling leaves; and later on wolves'
eyes gleamed from out the ring of darkness beyond the firelight. Far on
in the night the wind fell and the moon rose, changing the forest into
some dim, exquisite, far-off land, seen only in dreams. The Indians
awoke silently and all at once, as at an appointed hour. They spoke for
a while among themselves; then we were loosed from the trees, and the
walk toward death began anew.

On this march the werowance himself stalked beside me, the moonlight
whitening his dark limbs and relentless face. He spoke no word, nor did
I deign to question or reason or entreat. Alike in the darkness of the
deep woods, and in the silver of the glades, and in the long twilight
stretches of sassafras and sighing grass, there was for me but one
vision. Slender and still and white, she moved before me, with her wide
dark eyes upon my face. Jocelyn! Jocelyn!

At sunrise the mist lifted from a low hill before us, and showed an
Indian boy, painted white, poised upon the summit, like a spirit about
to take its flight. He prayed to the One over All, and his voice came
down to us pure and earnest. At sight of us he bounded down the hillside
like a ball, and would have rushed away into the forest had not a
Paspahegh starting out of line seized him and set him in our midst,
where he stood, cool and undismayed, a warrior in miniature. He was
of the Pamunkeys, and his tribe and the Paspaheghs were at peace;
therefore, when he saw the totem burnt upon the breast of the werowance,
he became loquacious enough, and offered to go before us to his village,
upon the b