Then two figures, hideous in paint, crept from the undergrowth, and stared at the sleeping boy with pitiless eyes.
Paul slept on, and mercifully knew nothing of his danger; yet it would have been hard to find in the world two pairs of eyes that contained more savagery than those now gazing upon him.

Their owners crept nearer, looking with fierce joy through the darkness at the sleeping boy who was so certainly their prey.

Their code contained nothing that taught them to spare a foe, and this youth.

In the van of the white invasion, was the worst of foes.
The boy still slept, and his slumber was deep, sweet, and dreamless.

No warning came to him while the savage eyes, bright with cruel fire, crept closer and closer, and the merciful darkness, coming again, tried to close down and hide the approaching tragedy of the forest.
Paul returned with a jerk from his peaceful heaven.