MARTIN RATTLER. 227

that his gaze was one of intense horror, and it sud-
denly occurred to him that the Indian supposed he
was a ghost! Acting upon this supposition, Martin
advanced his face slowly towards that of the Indian,
put on a dark frown, and stood for a few seconds
without uttering a word. The savage shrank back
and shuddered from head to foot. Then, with a
noiseless step, Martin retreated slowly backward to-
wards the door and passed out like a spectre—never
for a moment taking his eyes off those of the savage
until he was lost in darkness. On gaining the forest
he fled with a beating heart to his former retreat.
But his fears were groundless, for the Indian firmly
believed that Martin’s spirit had visited his hut and
carried away provisions for his journey to the land of
spirits.

Without waiting to rest, Martin no sooner reached
the scene of his adventurous leap than he fastened his
bag firmly on his shoulders and struck across the
valley in the direction of the blue mountains that
hemmed it in. Four or five hours’ hard walking
brought him to their base, and long before the rising
sun shone down upon his recent home he was over
the hills and far away, trudging onward with a weary
foot, but with a light heart, in what he believed to be
the direction of the east coast of Brazil. He did not