"Curse the wretch!" he muttered, "does he court all night?
How many hours have I been here waiting for my chance for a shot at him?
It's getting to be no joke, hungry, cold, tired enough to lie down here on the ground.

But I'll stick it out, and shoot him down like a dog.

He thinks to enjoy the prize he snatched from me, but he'll find himself mistaken, or my name's n----" The sentence ended with a fierce grinding of the teeth.

Hark! was that the distant tread of a horse?
He bent his ear to the earth, and almost held his breath to listen.

Yes, faint but unmistakable; the sounds filled him with a fiendish joy.