The savage uttered a cry, shot forward and fell into the stream. His
lifeless body tossed like dead wood on the swift current, reappeared and
floated by the little fortress of the three. Robert shuddered as he saw
the savage face again, and then he saw it no more.

The savages uttered a shout of grief and rage over the loss of the
warrior, but the besieged were silent. Willet, as he reloaded his rifle,
gave it an affectionate little pat or two.

"It's a good weapon," he said, "and with a fair light I was sure I
wouldn't miss. We've given 'em fair warning that they've got a nest of
panthers here to deal with, and that when they attack they're taking
risks. Can you see any of 'em now, Tayoga?"

"All have taken to cover. There is not one among them who is willing to
face again the rifle of the Great Bear."

Willet smiled with satisfaction at the compliment. He was proud of his
sharp-shooting, and justly so, but he said modestly:

"I had a fair target, and it will do for a warning. I think we can look
for another long rest now."

The dark period that precedes the dawn came, and then the morning
flashed over the woods. Robert, from the hollow, looking across the far
shore, saw lofty, wooded hills and back of them blue mountains. Beads of
rain stood on the leaves, and the wilderness seemed to emerge, fresh and
dripping, from a glorious bath. Pleasant odors of the wild came to him,
and now he felt the sting of imprisonment there among the rocks. He
wished they could go at once on their errand. It was a most unfortunate