He had traveled several hundred
yards when suddenly he heard what seemed to be a stealthy rustling, off
somewhere to his right. He dropped to the ground like a flash, and,
scarcely daring to breathe, peered through the velvety blackness,
straining his eyes in an attempt to make out the cause of the sound.
For the space of perhaps a minute all was as still as the grave, and Bert
had almost made up his mind that the noise must have been occasioned by a
snake or lizard, when suddenly, within three feet of where he lay he made
out the form of an Indian, a mere black splotch against the slightly
lighter background of the sky. The savage did not move, and Bert knew
that he had not been discovered as yet. But the dark form seemed to
have no intention of going any further, and Bert came to the conclusion
that the brave was one of the band that had been detailed to surround the
devoted little party of whites.
Bert knew that it would be impossible for him to move without being
discovered by the Indian, so he resolved on a swift, deadly attack as the
only way out of the dilemma.
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