Before she was aware Mandy was on her feet, determined to waken the sleeping Indian, but she had no more than taken a single step toward him when he was awake and listening keenly.

A soft padding upon the dead leaves could be heard like the gentle falling of raindrops.

The Indian rolled over on his side, swept away some dead leaves and moss, and drew toward him a fine Winchester rifle.
"Huh! Wolf," he said, with quiet unconcern.

"Here," he continued, pointing to a rock beside him.

Mandy took the place indicated.