forest, walking a little distance back from the stream, where they could
see on the farther bank, and yet not be seen from it. The moon was still
obscured, but a portion of its light fell directly upon Tandakora, and
Robert had never beheld a more sinister figure. The rays, feeble, were
yet strong enough to show his gigantic figure, naked save for the
breech cloth, and painted horribly. His eyes, moreover, were lighted up
either in fact or in Robert's fancy with a most wicked gleam, as if he
were already clutching the scalps of the three whom he was hunting so
savagely.

"Now," whispered Tayoga, "Tododaho alone can save us. He holds our fate
in the hollow of his hand, but he is merciful as well as just."

Robert knew their danger was of the uttermost, but often, in the extreme
crises of life and death, one may not feel until afterward that fate has
turned on a hair.

De Courcelles was just behind Tandakora, but the light did not fall so
clearly upon him. The savage had a hideous fascination for Robert, and
the moon's rays seemed to follow him. Every device and symbol painted
upon the huge chest stood out like carving, and all the features of the
heavy, cruel face were disclosed as if by day. But Robert noticed with
extraordinary relief that the eyes so full of menace were seeking the
three among the woods on the farther shore, and were paying little
attention to the tree. It was likely that neither Tandakora nor De
Courcelles would dream that they were upon it, but it was wholly
possible that the entire band should seek to cross that way, and reach
the southern shore in the quest of their prey.

The three in the depths of the boughs and leaves did not stir. The