He saw the Indian's plume, a single feather waving silver-white.

Then it became riveted on the bubbling, refulgent spring.

The pool was round, perhaps five feet across, and shone like a burnished shield.

It mirrored the moon, the twinkling stars, the spectre trees.
An unaccountable horror suddenly swept over the watching man.

His hair stood straight up; a sensation as of cold stole chillingly over him.