Instead, I too will go to sleep." Daganoweda, as much a Viking as any that ever lived in Scandinavia, lay down among his men and went quickly to the home over which Tarenyawagon presided.

Haace, filled with exultation that he had received the high approval of his chief, slid away among the trees on another scout, and, in like manner, the forest swallowed up Black Rifle.

Once more the camp was absolutely silent, only the thin and shadowy figures of the bronze sentinels showing through the misty gloom.

Robert lay down again and Tarenyawagon, the sender of dreams, held him in his spell.

His excited brain, even in sleep, was a great sensitive plate, upon which pictures, vivid and highly colored, were passing in a gorgeous procession.
Now, Tarenyawagon carried him forward and not back.