274 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



to visit the different light-houses of the United States coast, and 

 supply them with stores. Such a visit had just been made to the 

 light-house at Cape Florida. Two barrels of oil, provisions for the 

 light-keeper, a little powder and shot, some tools, cordage and 

 oakum, a few fishing implements, and some books that had been 

 sent for Lou Jackson, had been delivered and were lying in front 

 of the little house, and the white sails of the schooner were again 

 low on the horizon, leaving the light-house keeper and his niece 

 to another month of solitude. 



Lou's uncle was busily engaged storing the goods, some in the 

 house and some in the light-house, and the girl was in the lantern 

 with a book on her knees and her eye wandering away along the 

 reaches of the shore and of the past. The evening was lull, and 

 even the gulls had settled down on the waters of the bay. Pre- 

 sently her eye caught a motion from over the palmetto bushes 

 that ran down the island, and she watched for the cause. In a 

 moment she saw a naked Indian creeping over the sands, running 

 from a clump of bushes to one nearer the house. The fellow's face 

 was painted vermilion and black, and from his gaudy colour and 

 crouching motion, looked like a leopard more than a man. Lou 

 was not so ignorant of Indian ways but that she knew the mean- 

 ing of the war-paint and the subtle approach that never could 

 have been seen from below. The blood rushed to her heart with 

 a bound, and then her thoughts were as cool as before. This had 

 not been a totally unforeseen contingency, and they had discussed 

 the course to be followed, and had in a measure prepared for it. 

 The door of the light-house had been made heavy and strong, and 

 the arrangements in the upper story had been such that a person 

 would find it a comparative shelter. 



Lou leaned over the rail and called to her uncle in her ordinary 

 voice, " Uncle ! " 

 "Well, child?" 

 " Look up here, uncle." 



The old man leaned over the coil of ropes he had in his hand, 

 and looked up at the lantern. 



" Don't move fast," said she, in a measured voice, " but come 

 into the tower quietly ; there are Indians in the palmetto bushes." 



