build, was anything but pleasing in appearance, even when viewed from the
rear.

His blanket being thrown aside, he was naked, with the exception of a
breech-cloth. His feet were of large size, encased in shabby moccasins,
while frowsy leggins dangled between the knee and ankle. His body, from
the breech-cloth to the shoulders, was splashed and daubed with a half
dozen kinds of paint, while his black, thin hair straggled about his
shoulders and was smeared in the same fashion. Like most of the Indians of
the Southwest, he wore no scalp-lock, but allowed his hair to hang like a
woman's, not even permitting it to be gathered with a band, nor
ornamenting it with the customary stained eagle-feathers. His arms were
also bare, with the exception of the wrists, around which were tied
bracelets, which, no doubt, he considered very attractive. The boy could
fancy what a repulsive face he possessed.

Step by step, inch by inch, the young hero made his way, his eyes fixed
upon the savage with a burning intensity, until it seemed that he would
burn him through and through. And the Apache heard him not, although they
were no more than ten feet apart.

"He will hear the thumping of my heart," was the constant fear of the boy.

Slowly lifting one foot, he put in on the ground as softly as if it were
held in a slipper of eiderdown. He was treading upon a thin growth of
grass, interspersed plentifully with gravel, but he never once looked to
see what he was stepping upon. Indeed, he could not remove his eyes from
the one central figure of his thoughts and vision.

One obstruction, no matter how slight--the turning of a pebble, a slip,