412 WILD SPOBTS IN THE SOUTH. 



guttural sound from the darkness, and the dense foliage 

 was violently agitated as if two bodies were struggling 

 beneath. The noise could not be heard on the shore for 

 the sound of the surf. But backward and forward on 

 the islet swayed the heavy leaves of the sea-rocket, that 

 reared its red head from the palmettoes, and Towler, 

 the hound, stretched his head shoreward from the boat 

 and snuffed the air with quivering nostrils, and his eyes 

 glowed like a lion's. Presently Mike crawled out again 

 from the foliage, dragging down to the water's edge the 

 pliant lithe body of an Indian that he left under the 

 leaves, and then he swam out and drew up his boat to 

 the island and hid it where it had been before, under the 

 tangled leaves. 



Then the red flush came out of the sea, and the morn- 

 ing wind, and like an army with banners, the great sea 

 fog rolled up its masses and trailed away over the ever- 

 glades, leaving the tower, and the beach, and the 

 tumbling seas, rejoicing in the beauty and the joy of a 

 Sabbath morning. 



In a little while after the light appeared, the warriors 

 of Tiger Tail's band showed themselves among the cop- 

 pices on the beach, carefully beating up every spot that 

 might afford a cover for the scent they had spent the 

 night in searching for. They went into the ruined 

 dwelling, and then into the light, and away down to 

 where the point of land dwindled into the surf, and 

 finally, as if satisfied with their search and ashamed of 

 the flight of their foe, they resumed their positions 



