288 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



blow was to fall. She lay down on the floor and waited, trusting 

 to the Providence that had kept her thus far to preserve her to 

 the end. 



While thus waiting and listening, her eyes caught sight of the 

 head of the savage slowly rising to the level of the platform. The 

 crest of eagle feathers, the circles of black and vermilion, and the 

 glaring eye, had something in it of so paralysing a horror that she 

 only gazed as she would have gazed in the dilating pupils of a 

 lion, without making a motion of defence. 



At this instant there came to the ear of the girl the crack of a 

 rifle. The surf pounded so heavily on the beach, and the wind 

 rustled so fiercely through the palmettoes, and wrestled with the 

 cocoa-nut tree, that the report of the rifle could just be heard by 

 the crouching girl in the lantern, and the crowd assembled on the 

 strand thought the shot came from within the light-house. 



But the Indian clinging to the tower sprang half his length 

 above the ledge by the contraction of his arms alone. He writhed 

 around so that his back turned toward the wall. His eyes searched 

 the thickets and the little island that lay near by in the bay. He 

 attempted to sound the war-cry, but the blood bubbled out of his 

 mouth, and fell pattering on the astonished staring group below. 

 One hand fell off from its grasp on the stone coping. He tried to 

 reach it back again, but it wavered in the air half lifted. His film- 

 ing eye caught sight of the sea-gulls that, drawn by the strange 

 sight, balanced in the air above him, uttering their plaintive cries. 

 He saw in them the spirits of the happy Hunting Grounds pro- 

 mised by his religion. His body swung around in the wind. The 

 head fell back, and the fingers slipped their hold, then the limp 

 corpse fell with a thud on the sands. 



During the occurrence the savages stood mute looking on 

 the unaccountable spectacle. When the body fell to the ground 

 they paused a little, and then crept up to it, leaning over it 

 and examining it. One pointed out with his finger the little 

 blue spot under the arm that a rifle bullet makes. A guttural 

 "ugh!" proclaimed their assent and surprise. They lifted up 

 their dead comrade and retired to the dwelling-house, setting him 

 up against its walls, and held a long consultation. They thought 



