Part 13 (2/2)

The crown of the warrior, with the projecting eagle feathers, were as if they were a part of the darkness itself, so vaguely were they outlined in the gloom, though their ident.i.ty was as clear to the girl as if the noon-day sun was s.h.i.+ning upon the painted features.

The head rose just high enough for the glittering eyes to peer over the horizon of the rock in the endeavor to learn something of the situation within the interior of the ”fort.”

Agnes was transfixed for a moment. She feared that if she sank lower, or changed her position, the Indian would detect it and use his knife or tomahawk, and the same unspeakable dread prevented her crying out to warn George Ashbridge or any of the others of their peril.

She had no weapon of her own at command, and very probably it would have made no difference if she had, for she was but an infant before this terrible embodiment of strength, treachery and hate. But she felt she must do something to teach the miscreant the risk he ran by his daring act.

Groping silently with her right hand among and under the leaves, she managed to clutch some gravel and dirt, which, with a quick flirt, she intended to fling in the face of the Indian. It would probably cause him some inconvenience and considerable surprise, though the weapon was too insignificant for him to make any use of it.

The result of the novel demonstration can only be guessed, since the opportunity to try it pa.s.sed at the moment Agnes was ready to make the test. When in the act of drawing back her hand, the head of the Shawanoe vanished as noiselessly as it had obtruded on the scene.

It seems incredible that the savage could have gained any knowledge of the interior of the fortification or of the location of the defenders.

The gloom was too deep to permit the use of any vision except that of the owl or cat. He had probably withdrawn to repeat his attempt at some other point.

Again, the marvelous delicacy of hearing told the girl that her enemy was in motion, not directly in front of the boulder, but on the left, in the direction of George Ashbridge. She peered intently at that point, wondering how much longer she ought to remain motionless and mute, and on the point of calling, in a suppressed voice, to her lover, when something whisked by her elbow, too quickly or too dimly seen for her to comprehend at once what it meant.

Then it flashed upon her.

”George!” she called, in an undertone, so full of dread and terror that he was at her side in an instant.

”What's the matter? What has happened?”

”There's an Indian within the inclosure!”

”Impossible! You are mistaken!”

”I saw him this minute.”

”Where? Tell me how it was!” he whispered, seizing her hand, and quick to catch her excitement.

”I saw the top of his head peeping over this very rock in front of me. I was about to call to you, when he dropped down again. The next moment he pa.s.sed over the spot where you are. He did it so quickly and silently that I heard nothing, and caught only the most shadowy glimpses of him.”

”Can it be possible? I cannot dispute you, and yet--”

A tall figure, walking erect, a.s.sumed form in the gloom, and was upon the startled lovers before they were aware of it.

Young Ashbridge was in the act of bringing his rifle to a level, when Weber Hastings spoke.

”Not too fast, younkers. I'm afeared I didn't do the best thing in the world, when I placed you two so near each other.”

”No matter where you placed her,” replied the youth, ”you did a good thing for the rest. She has sharper eyes than any of us, for she has seen what n.o.body else saw.”

”What's that? What's that?”

”Within the last three minutes,” said Agnes, ”one of the Shawanoes pa.s.sed by this boulder behind which I have been sitting, and is now somewhere within the inclosure. Oh, I wonder if he means any harm to your folks, George, or mine!”

<script>