There he sits, the ugly sprite!
’Tis his shadow sweeps the land,
Where he flogs the mountain height
With his flapping vans in flight.
Now Redemption is at hand——
If the silver will but bite!
[Puts the rifle to her cheek and shoots. A hollow roar, as of distant thunder, is heard far up the precipice.
Brand.
[Starting up.]
Ha, what dost thou?