“You darling!” he said under his breath.

“Hush; that is forbidden.  You know perfectly well it is. Are you laughing?  That is very horrid of you when I’m trying so hard not to listen when you use forbidden words to me.  But I heard you once when I should not have heard you.  Does that seem centuries ago?  Alas for us both, Ulysses, when I heard your voice calling me under the Southern stars!  Would you ever have spoken if you knew what you know now?”

“I would have told you the truth sooner.”

“Told me what truth?”

“That I love you, Calypso.”

“You always answer like a boy!  Ah, well I—­if you knew how easily a girl believes such answers!”

He bent his head, raising her bare fingers to his lips.  A tiny shock passed through them both; she released her hand and buried it in the folds of her kilt.

There was a pale flare of moonlight behind the forest; trunks and branches were becoming more distinct.  A few moments later the Indian, bending low, came creeping back without a sound, and straightened up in the fathomless shadow of the oak, motioning Shiela and Hamil to rise.

“Choo-lee,” he motioned with his lips; “Ko-la-pa-kin!”

Lips close to Hamil’s ear she whispered:  “He says that there are seven in that pine.  Can you see them?”

He strained his eyes in vain; she had already found them and now stood close to his shoulder, whispering the direction.

“I can’t make them out,” he said.  “Don’t wait for me, but take your chance at once.”

“Do you think I would do that?”

“You must!  You have never shot a turkey—­”

“Hush, silly.  What pleasure would there be in it without you?  Try to see them; look carefully.  All those dark furry blotches against the sky are pine leaves, but the round shadowy lumps are turkeys; one is quite clearly silhouetted, now; even to his tail—­”

“I believe I do see!” murmured Hamil.  “By Jove, yes!  Shiela, you’re an angel to be so patient.”

“I’ll take the top bird,” she whispered.  “Are you ready?  We must be quick.”

“Ready,” he motioned.

Then in the dim light one of the shadowy bunches rose abruptly, standing motionless on the branch, craning a long neck into the moonlight.

“Fire!” she whispered; and four red flashes in pairs split the gloom wide open for a second.  Then roaring darkness closed about them.

Instantly the forest resounded with the thunderous racket of heavy wings as the flock burst into flight, clattering away through leafy obscurity; but under the uproar of shot and clapping wings sounded the thud and splash of something heavy crashing earthward; and the Indian, springing from root to tussock, vanished into the shadows.

“Two down!” said the girl, unsteadily.  “Oh, I am so thankful that you got yours!”

They exchanged excited handclasps of mutual congratulation.  Then he said: