d hate to be as silly as he in others. How many coyotes
there were to-night anyhow. He had already heard their short, sharp
barks, and long dismal howls from the bluffs behind him, and from those
on the opposite side of the stream. Now another of the weird sounds came
floating down on the damp night air from the direction of the old Indian
camping-ground. Perhaps that fellow was howling because he couldn't find
any meat on those bleached buffalo bones. Well, no wonder. Glen thought
he would be inclined to howl, too, over such a disappointment as that.

It was not absolutely dark; for, though the moon was in its last
quarter, it gave considerable light when the clouds would let it; but
they were scurrying across the sky at such a rate that they kept it
hidden most of the time. As Glen was facing the east, it lighted the
spot where he lay whenever it was allowed to light any thing, and made
the darkness of the underbrush, at which he gazed, blacker than ever. It
was forlorn and lonely enough without the moonlight; but Glen thought
that perhaps it was better to be in darkness than to be lighted up while
enemies might possibly be gazing at him from the safe cover of those
impenetrable shadows. How easily a rifle-shot from those bushes could
pick him off during one of those uncomfortable little spells of
moonlight.

All at once Glen saw another light, apparently on the edge of the
opposite bluffs. It showed yellow and steady for a second, and then
disappeared. Was it an Indian signal, or a newly risen star suddenly
obscured by clouds? This was a question calculated to keep even a sleepy
boy wide awake. Perhaps if he watched closely he would see it again. He
had heard a great deal about Indian signals lately, and knew that, by
flashes of fire at night, smokes, waving blankets, and mirror flashes by
day, they could transmit intelligence across the plains almost as
readily as white men could do the same thing by telegraph. How he wished
he understood their signals, and how he would like to see them using
them.

Glen was very curious concerning Indians--real wild ones--and hoped he
should at least catch a glimpse of some before the trip was ended. It
would be too absurd to return to Brimfield, after crossing the Plains,
and to be obliged to confess that he had not met any.

Hallo! How near those coyote howls were coming. Wasn't that one of the
brutes now, skulking in the shadow of those willows? Certainly something
was movin