Whether it was the climax of this long night's excitement, or anticipation of the bloody struggle soon to come, he knew not.

Did this boiling spring, shimmering in the sliver moon-rays, hold in its murky depths a secret?
Did these lonesome, shadowing trees, with their sad drooping branches, harbor a mystery?
If a future tragedy was to be enacted here in this quiet glade, could the murmuring water or leaves whisper its portent?
No; they were only silent, only unintelligible with nature's mystery.
The waiting man cursed himself for a craven coward; he fought back the benumbing sense; he steeled his heart.

Was this his vaunted willingness to share the Avenger's danger?
His strong spirit rose up in arms; once more he was brave and fierce.
He fastened a piercing gaze on the plumed guard.

The Indian's lounging posture against the rock was the same as it had been before, yet now it seemed to have a kind of strained attention.

The savage's head was poised, like that of a listening deer.