the outlook, had seen it again, and again at a third point. It was
encircling the camp. Then all of us, except Jondo, began to see moving
shapes. He saw nothing for a long time, and our spirits rose again.

"You must have been mistaken, Jondo," Rex Krane ventured, as he stared
into the black gloom. "Maybe it was just this infernal wind. It's one
darned sea-breeze of a zephyr."

"I've crossed the plains before. I wasn't mistaken," the big plainsman
replied. "If I had been, you'd still see it. The trouble is that it is
watching now. Everybody lay low. It will come to life again. I hope
there's only one of it."

We had hardly moved after the first alarm, except to peer about and
fancy that dark objects were closing in upon us.

It did come to life again. This time on Jondo's side of the camp.
Something creeping near, and nearer.

The air was motionless and hot above us, the upper heavens were
beginning to be threshed across by clouds, and the silence hung like a
weight upon us. Then suddenly, just beyond the camp, a form rose from
the ground, stood upright, and stretched out both arms toward us. And a
low cry, "Take me. I die," reached our ears.

Still Jondo commanded silence. Indians are shrewd to decoy their foes
out of the security of the camp. The form came nearer--a little girl, no
larger than our Mat--and again came the low call. The voice was Indian,
the accent Spanish, but the words were English.