"I'd better get my gun from the wagon," said Will.

"How dark and wild it is here!" exclaimed Helen nervously. "I believe
I was frightened. Perhaps I fancied it--there! Again--listen. Ah!"

Two tall figures emerged from the darkness into the circle of light,
and with swift, supple steps gained the camp-fire before any of the
travelers had time to move. They were Indians, and the brandishing of
their tomahawks proclaimed that they were hostile.

"Ugh!" grunted the taller savage, as he looked down upon the
defenseless, frightened group.

As the menacing figures stood in the glare of the fire gazing at the
party with shifty eyes, they presented a frightful appearance. Fierce
lineaments, all the more so because of bars of paint, the hideous,
shaven heads adorned with tufts of hair holding a single feather,
sinewy, copper-colored limbs suggestive of action and endurance, the
general aspect of untamed ferocity, appalled the travelers and chilled
their blood.

Grunts and chuckles manifested the satisfaction with which the Indians
fell upon the half-finished supper. They caused it to vanish with
astonishing celerity, and resembled wolves rather than human beings in
their greediness.

Helen looked timidly around as if hoping to see those who would aid,
and the savages regarded her with ill humor. A movement on the part of
any member of the group caused muscular hands to steal toward the
tomahawks.