Had the guards been awake instead of dreaming, it is possible that they
might have noticed the dark figure of a man who noiselessly and
stealthily crept amid the heavy shadows on the edge of the forest
towards the great granary, or storehouse, in which was kept all the
ripe maize of the tribe, together with much starch-root (koonti katki)
and a large quantity of yams. The granary was built of pitch-pine
posts and poles, heavily thatched with palm-leaves, that the summer
suns had dried to a tinder.

Occasionally the dark figure skulking among the shadows came to little
patches of bright moonlight, and to cross these he lay flat on the
ground and writhed his way through the grass like a snake. A close
observer would have noticed a dull, steady glow which came from a round
object that the skulker carried with great care. If he had been near
enough he would have seen that this was a large gourd, in which, on a
bed of sand, were a quantity of live coals taken from one of the fires
that still smouldered about the epola, or place of dancing. In his
other hand the man carried a few fat-pine splinters that would burn
almost like gun-powder.

At length, without having attracted attention from any one of the
encamped Indians, or the drowsy guards upon whom they depended for
safety, the figure reached the granary, and disappeared amid the dark
shadows of its walls. Crouching to the ground, and screening his gourd
of coals with his robe, he thrust into it one end of the bundle of
fat-pine splinters and blew gently upon them. They smoked for a
minute, and then burst into a quick blaze.

Beginning at one end of the granary, this torch was applied to the dry
thatch that covered it, and it instantly sprang into flame. As the