He held his breath, listened, and peered through the branches.

Soon a man appeared,--a Navajo; but whether it was Nacaytzusle or not, he could not discover.

The Indian glided across the open space as noiselessly as a spectre, and disappeared in a northerly direction.

Tyope remained in his concealment for a while, and as nothing more was heard or seen, he crawled to the nearest shrub to the west.

There he again listened and watched, then rose to his feet and moved in a westerly direction.
The moon had risen, and its crescent shed a glimmer over the tree-tops.
For some time Tyope walked on.