The wary
Indian scented danger.
A faint moan breathed low above the sound of gently splashing water
somewhere beyond the glade.
"Woo-o-oo."
The guard's figure stiffened, and became rigidly erect; his blanket
slowly slid to his feet.
"Ah-oo-o," sighed the soft breeze in the tree tops.
Louder then, with a deep wail, a moan arose out of the dark gray
shadows, swelled thrilling on the still air, and died away
mournfully.
"Um-m-mmwoo-o-o-o!"
The sentinel's form melted into the shade. He was gone like a
phantom.
Another Indian rose quickly, and glanced furtively around the glade.
He bent over a comrade and shook him. Instantly the second Indian
was on his feet. Scarcely had he gained a standing posture when an
object, bounding like a dark ball, shot out of the thicket and
hurled both warriors to the earth. A moonbeam glinted upon something
bright. It flashed again on a swift, sweeping circle. A short,
choking yell aroused the other savages. Up they sprang, alarmed,
confused.
The shadow-form darted among them. It moved with inconceivable
rapidity; it became a monster. Terrible was the convulsive conflict.
Dull blows, the click of steel, angry shouts, agonized yells, and
thrashing, wrestling sounds mingled together and half drowned by an
awful roar like that of a mad bull.
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