Midnight, and they pulled up amid the deeper gloom of a great,

overhanging bluff, having numerous trees near its summit. There was

the glow of a distant fire upon their left, which reddened the sky, and

reflected oddly on the edges of a vast cloud-mass rolling up

threateningly from the west. Neither knew definitely where they were,

although Murphy guessed the narrow stream they had just forded might be

the upper waters of the Tongue. Their horses stood with heads hanging

wearily down, their sides rising and falling; and Hampton, rolling

stiffly from the saddle, hastily loosened his girth.

"They 'll drop under us if we don't give them an hour or two," he said,

quietly. "They 're both dead beat."

Murphy muttered something, incoherent and garnished with oaths, and the

moment he succeeded in releasing the buckle, sank down limp at the very

feet of his horse, rolling up into a queer ball. The other stared, and

took a step nearer.

"What's the matter? Are you sick, Murphy?"

"No--tired--don't want ter see--thet thing agin."

"What thing?"

"Thet green, devilish,--crawlin' face--if ye must know!" And he

twisted his long, ape-like arms across his eyes, lying curled up as a

dog might.

For a moment Hampton stood gazing down upon him, listening to his

incoherent mutterings, his own face grave and sympathetic. Then he

moved back and sat down. Suddenly the full conception of what this

meant came to his mind--the man had gone mad. The strained cords of

that diseased brain had snapped in the presence of imagined terrors,

and now all was chaos. The horror of it overwhelmed Hampton; not only

did this unexpected denouement leave him utterly hopeless, but what was

he to do with the fellow? How could he bring him forth from there

alive? If this stream was indeed the Tongue, then many a mile of rough

country, ragged with low mountains and criss-crossed by deep ravines,

yet stretched between where they now were and the Little Big Horn,

where they expected to find Custer's men. They were in the very heart

of the Indian country,--the country of the savage Sioux. He stared at

the curled-up man, now silent and breathing heavily as if asleep. The

silence was profound, the night so black and lonely that Hampton

involuntarily closed his heavy eyes to shut it out. If he only might

light a pipe, or boil himself a cup of black coffee! Murphy never

stirred; the horses were seemingly too weary to browse. Then Hampton

nodded, and sank into an uneasy doze.




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