figure ran along the end of the structure, around the corner, and down
the entire length of its side, always keeping in the shadow, he applied
the torch in a dozen places, and then flinging it on top of the low
roof, where it speedily ignited the covering, he bounded away into the
darkness, uttering, as he did so, a long-drawn, ear-piercing yell of
triumph.

By the time the nodding guards had discovered the flames and given the
alarm, the whole granary was in a blaze, and the startled Indians, who
rushed out from the lodges and palmetto booths, could do nothing but
stand helpless and gaze at the destruction of their property. All
asked how it had happened, and who had done this thing, but not even
the guards could offer the slightest explanation.

Meantime the author of all this mischief stopped when he had gained
what he considered a safe distance from the fire, and, concealed by the
friendly shadows of the forest, stood with folded arms and scowling
features gazing at the result of his efforts. At length the light from
the burning building grew so bright that even the shadow in which he
stood began to be illuminated, and he turned to go away. As he did so
he shook his clenched hand towards the burning granary, and muttered,
"The white man and the red man shall both learn to dread the fangs of
the Snake, for thus do I declare war against them both."

As he spoke, a voice beside him, that he instantly recognized as that
of Has-se, exclaimed, "What! is this thy work, Chitta?"

For answer Has-se received a terrible blow, full in the face, that
stretched him, stunned and bleeding, on the ground; and Chitta, saying,
"Lie there, miserable Bow-bearer, I will meet thee again," sprang out