The chief was not likely to be more devoid of anything like mercy than was the greatest or humblest of his warriors.
The red-skin was on foot, and bore a rifle in his hand.

Instead of the fanciful scalp-lock ornamenting his crown, his black, wiry hair straggled down around his shoulders, over which was thrown a dirty army blanket, that had once belonged to the United States government.

The hideous paint upon his face was easily seen from the perch of the lad, and the red-skin was as repulsive and dreaded an object as can be imagined.
The scamp was moving along with that stealthy, cat-like tread which is characteristic of all his race; but although directly under the tree when first seen by the lad, he did not look up nor act in any way which would suggest that he suspected the presence of anyone over him.

He did not hesitate in his movement, and thus it was that he was scarcely seen when he disappeared in the wood beyond, and the boy was alone.
Fred was now fully satisfied that it would not do to leave the tree so long as a particle of daylight remained.

Apaches were too plentiful in those parts.
"I s'pose they'll hang around till night, though I can't see what they're going to make by it," said the boy to himself.