them with the moccasins being hidden, however, in the grass.
The whole thing was beyond explanation. It looked as if the Indian while crawling over the ground and hidden by the grass, had changed his mind and deliberately risen to his feet, where he must have known he would be in full view of the vigilant white men. What could it all mean?
The next moment, while Alden was staring at the strange sight, he recalled the orders of Shagbark.
“The minute ye’re sure it’s a redskin, shoot!”
Nothing could be easier than for the youth to bring his rifle to a level where he was screened by the darkness, and bring down the Indian as he would bring down any other game. But he could not do it. The thought of shooting a human being, even though an enemy probably seeking the life of the youth himself, was intolerable. It would have been a crime for which Heaven would hold him accountable and for whose commission he could never forgive himself,
“I shan’t let him get out of my sight; he can do no harm so long as he stands there; if he attacks, I’ll shoot. Shagbark will laugh at
