The dawn had not yet come, but it was not a dark night, and he looked over across the little clearing to the trees beyond.

On that side was a tiny garden, and near the wall of the house some roses were blooming.

He could see the glow of pink and red.

But no enemy bad yet approached.

Searching the clearing carefully with those eyes of his, almost preternaturally keen, he was confident that the Indians were still in the woods.