midnight
Beyond the baskets , and nearly opposite the entrance , against the wall , was a heap of fine brush , covered with the tawny skin of an immense mountain-lion -- a giant specimen of his species , and a formidable animal , truly , for an Indian to encounter with only bow and arrow . On this bed of brush was the gaunt , emaciated form of a woman lying stretched out at full length . At first glance , one might have mistaken her for a mummy , so still and lifeless she lay ; her face , too , carried out the resemblance startlingly , for it was furrowed and seamed with countless wrinkles , the skin appearing like parchment in its dry , leathery texture . Only the eyes gave assurance that this was no mummy , but a living , sentient body -- eyes large , full-orbed and black as midnight , arched by heavy brows that frowned with great purpose , as if the soul behind and beyond were seeking , powerless , to relieve itself of some weighty message . These were not the eyes of age , yet they belonged to a countenance that gave token of having lived through a great many years ; for the woman lying there so deathly still had experienced all the varied joys and sufferings of near four score years , each one leaving its indelible mark on the tell-tale face . She was clothed in a loose dress made from rabbit skins , sewn together coarsely , sleeveless , and so short as to leave her feet and ankles bare . To the left of the entrance crouched a young Indian woman .