When the camp-fire burned low, and all slumbered save Mary, who could not calm her feverish excitement, and lay wide awake, she fancied she heard steps around the tent. All was silent; then again came the sound; and raising herself, she thought she perceived some one standing near the entrance. The figure disappeared, and then followed a rumbling, stamping, kicking, as though the horses were verily bewitched. "The Indians!" thought Mary; and quickly rising, she threw a black mantle round her, and creeping to the door of the tent, peeped cautiously out. The horses still seemed restless, stamping and snorting, and she thought she could softly reach the adjoining tent and rouse the gentlemen, knowing that their arms were in readiness. She had just stepped out of her own tent, and stood out of doors, when she caught a glimpse of a dark, muffled figure walking toward her. The rain had ceased, but it was very dark, and only by the aid of the firelight, now grown dim, she perceived it. A cold shudder crept over her, as, raising her eyes to the blackened sky but an instant, she sprung forward toward the place where she fancied the gentlemen were sleeping. A hand was laid on her arm, and a deep voice sounded in her ear:

"Be not alarmed, Miss Mary, I am here!"

She trembled so that she could scarcely stand. He supported her a moment, ere she replied in a whisper—

"What causes the disturbance to-night?"

"I feel assured there are Indians about, though you need fear nothing, for they are not in sufficient numbers to attack us. There are four men in our party—nearly a dozen muskets, besides my pistols, and plenty of ammunition. Were you one of the timid sort, I should not venture to tell you my apprehensions: but I know that you are not. I have not slept, or even lain down; and a while ago, I heard the sound of hoofs approaching. Taking my pistols, I went round to the horses, and had not waited many moments before I saw two figures, evidently reconnoitering and planning the abduction of our horses, who seemed much alarmed. I suppose the intruders must have seen me, for they suddenly wheeled off and galloped away."

"Perhaps there is a party not far distant, for whose assistance they have gone."

"Possibly, though I think not; but you must not stand on this wet ground." He led her to the tent, and seating himself near the door, continued:

"I shall not sleep to-night, and rest assured you will be most carefully guarded. You were imprudent to venture out on such a night."

"What! when I thought there was danger, and none, save myself, aware of it?"

"Did you think I could rest, knowing, as I do, how you are suffering?"