Brown forms that had been flitting about disappeared, too, and all at once there was silence in the wilderness, and nothing to be seen save the hunters and the still, brown figures among the rocks and bushes.

To Paul it was wonderful, this melting away of the battle, and this disappearance of the foe, all in a flash.

He rubbed his eyes, and could scarcely believe that it was real.

But there were the still, brown figures, and by a tree near him lay another still figure, in hunting shirt and leggings, with his face upturned to the sky.

One of the hunters had been shot through the heart, and had died instantly and without noise.