front, so that he could use it at a moment's need, for he could not but
see the probability that, if his horse had been lately disturbed, it was
likely that those who did so were still in the vicinity, and no place was
more likely to be used for a covert than the same patch of timber which he
was approaching.

"Be the powers! but it looks a little pokerish!" he said to himself,
slowing his gait, and surveying the wood with no little distrust. "There
might be a dozen of the spalpeens slaaping there wid one eye open, or all
sitting up and expicting me."

He had proceeded so far however, that it was as dangerous to turn back as
it was to go on, for if any enemies were there, they were so close at hand
that they could easily capture or shoot him before he could reach his
horse. He was scarcely moving, and doing his utmost to penetrate the deep
shadow, when, beyond all question, he heard a movement among the trees. He
paused as if he had been shot and cocked his rifle, looking toward the
point from whence came the noise.

"Aisy there, now," he said in a solemn voice. "I won't stand any of your
thricks. I'm savage, and when I'm that way I'm dangerous, so if yees are
there spake out, or else come out like a man, and tell me your name, be
the token of which mine is Mickey O'Rooney from Ireland."

This characteristic summons produced no response, and, feeling the
peculiar peril of his exposed position, the Irishman determined upon
changing it and securing the shelter of a tree for himself. It was not
prudent to move directly toward the spot which gave forth the rustling
sound, as that would be likely to draw out a shot from a foe if he desired
to avoid a personal encounter. Accordingly, the Irishman made what might