"Hasten, little one," said Sentul uneasily. "Per- chance it is the striped one."
But as he spoke the words the grass was parted by human hands, and Sentul found himself gazing into the wild and bloodshot eyes of Ku-ish, the Por- cupine, along the length of an ancient gun-barrel. He had time to note the rust upon the dulled metal, the fantastic shape of the clumsy sight, and the blue tattoo-marks on the nose and forehead of his enemy. All these things he saw mechanically, in an instant of time; but ere he could move hand or foot the world around him seemed to be shattered into a thou- sand fragments to the sound of a deafening explosion, and he lay dead upon the grass, with his skull blowu to atomis.
At the sight Sentul's son fled screaming along the edge of the pool; but Ku-ish's blood was up, and lie started in pursuit. The little boy, finding flight itseless, flung himself down in the long grass, and cowering there, raised his arms above his head, shrieking for mercy in his childish treble. Ku-îsh, for answer, plunged his spear again and again into the writhing body at his feet; and at the second blow the distortions of terror faded from his victim's face and was replaced by that expression of perfect peace that is only to be seen in its completeness in the coun- tenance of a sleeping child.
Ku-ish gathered up the fish and took all the to- bacco that he could find upon Sentul's body; for a Sakai never quite loses sight of those perennial cravings of appetite which he is doomed never alto-
