388 WILD 8POKT8 IN THE SOUTH. 



His only attempt now was a trial of endurance without 

 any retaliation upon the savages, and laying aside his 

 fowling-piece he assisted his niece in carrying up to the 

 lantern a few things that a protracted stay might render 

 necessary. A few bags of biscuit and boxes of figs, a 

 canvas sail and a rope were brought up, and two or three 

 glass reflectors of heavy weight and much value, were 

 lifted up, with great labor, to the topmost platform. 



" I have forgotten my gun," said Laidlaw, descending 

 for the last time the winding steps, blurred with smoke 

 and dusky with the twilight, while Lou crouched down 

 in the lantern to avoid being seen from the sands. 



" And bring up some tobacco for your pipe, uncle," 

 she called after him, down the stairs. 



" I can't find the gun. Lou, did you see where I put 

 it ?" he called from below. 



"Is it not leaning against the centre post?" she 

 called. 



The answer to her question was sent back up the con- 

 fined tube of the tower, multiplied into infinite echoes by 

 the hollow walls, in an Indian war-whoop. 



The savages had effected an entrance from below. 

 Where was her uncle ? She listened, but there was no 

 sound of struggle or pleading, no prayer or groan, only 

 the war-whoop came up in the darkness, echoing and re- 

 echoing from vermilion colored lips and stony walls. She 

 leaned her head down the trap door that communicated 

 from the lantern to the stairs, calling, "Uncle, dear 

 uncle, shall I come to you ?" But no voice or sound 



