Silent Tom sat by the side of the door watching, his rifle on his knees. Nothing that moved in the foliage in front of them could escape his eyes. Long Jim was slicing the cooked venison with his hunting knife, and Paul, sitting on his own particular collection of leaves with his back against the wall, was polishing his hatchet. It looked more like a friendly group of hunters than a band fighting to escape death by torture. And despite the real fact the sense of comfort was strong.

Henry knew by the sunlight that the rain had passed and that a warm clear day was at hand. He inferred, too, that nothing had happened while he slept, and rising he drank at the stream, after which he bathed his face, and resumed his buckskin clothing which had dried.

"Good sleep," said Paul.

"Fine," said Henry.

"You showed great judgment in choosing your inn."

"I knew that I would find here friends, a bed, water, food and a roof."

"Everything, in fact, except fire."

"Which we can do without for a while."

"But I would say that the special pride of the inn is the roof. Certainly no rain seems to have got through it last night."

"It's fifteen or twenty feet thick, and you will notice that the ceiling has been sculptured by a great artist."

Henry had seen it before, but he observed it more closely now, with all its molded ridges and convolutions.

"Nature does work well, sometimes," he said.

Long Jim handed him strips of venison.

"Eat your breakfast," he said. "I'm sorry, Mr. Visitor, that I kin offer you only one thing to eat, but as you came late an' we haven't much chance to git anythin' else you'll hev to put up with it. But thar's plenty uv water. You kin drink all day long, ef you like."

Henry accepted the venison, ate heartily, drank again, and went to the door where Silent Tom was watching.

"Look through the little crack thar," said Tom, "an' you kin see everythin' that's to be seen without bein' seen."

Henry took a long and comprehensive look. He saw the thick foliage down the slope, and the equally thick foliage on the other side. It looked beautiful in its deep green, still heavy with the rain drops of the night before, despite a brilliant sun that was rising. The wind had died down to a gentle murmur.

"Anything stirring, Tom?" he asked.

"Nothin' fur some time. 'Bout an hour ago I caught the shine o' a red blanket 'mong them trees over thar, four hundred yards or so from us an' too fur fur a shot."

"Do you think they'll try to rush us?"

Silent Tom shook his head.

"Not 'less they're pushed," he replied. "'Pears to me they'll settle down to a long siege. They know we're after thar cannon an' they mean to see that we don't git near 'em. Ef they could keep us holed up here fur two or three weeks they'd willin' enough spare twenty warriors or so fur the job."

"But why are such important men as Red Eagle and Blackstaffe left here?"

"Mebbe, they thought they'd git at us an' finish us in a day or two. Look at that, Henry. What do you make it out to be?"

"It's a spot of white in the foliage, and it's coming nearer. They want to talk with us. Somebody has hoisted a piece of old cloth on a gun barrel and is approaching. It's Braxton Wyatt."

"Yes, I see him, an' he's within range now. May I send a bullet squar'ly through his head, Henry?"

"No, no! You mustn't do that! We'll observe all the rules of war, whether they do or not. There's Blackstaffe behind Wyatt, and two more Indians. Let them come within a hundred yards, Tom, then hail 'em. Paul, you do the talking, but say I'm not here."

The two renegades and the two Indians came on with confidence, until they were halted by Tom's loud command.

The four stopped and Wyatt called out:

"We want to talk with you and it's better for you to do it."

"It may or may not be better for us," said Paul. "We're the best judges of that. But what do you want?"

"You know me, Paul Cotter," said Wyatt, who recognized the voice, "and you know I keep my word. Now, we have you fellows shut up there. All we've got to do is to wait until your food gives out, which'll be very soon, and then you'll drop into our hands like an apple from a tree."

"Oh, no," said Paul airily. "We've always had this place in mind for some such use as the present, and from time to time we've been stocking it up with food. We could live here a year in comfort. Long Jim is cooking deer steaks now, and the smoke is going out through a hole, which leads clear through the hill. If you'll go around to the other side, about a mile from here, you'll see the smoke."

Paul merely followed the Indian fashion of taunting one's enemies. He believed that in the forest it was best to follow its ways.

"Aren't you going, Braxton?" he called. "Long Jim is letting the fire die down and if you don't hurry around there you won't see the smoke."

"You think you're smart, Paul Cotter," Braxton Wyatt called back in anger. "You've read too many books. Drop your high and mighty ways and come down to facts."

"Well, what do you want? You're in our front yard and we have the right to shoot you, but we won't do it until you tell what you're doing there."

"As I said, we've got you shut up. We're sure that you haven't food for more than two or three days. Surrender and we'll spare your lives and take you as prisoners to the British at Detroit—that is, all except Henry Ware."

"And why except Henry?"

"He has done so much against the warriors that I don't think we could induce them to spare him."

"But what makes you think he's here?"

Wyatt hesitated and he and Blackstaffe spoke together a few moments in a low voice. Then he replied:

"One of our largest and strongest warriors was strangled nearly to death last night. Nobody could have done it but Ware."

Paul laughed loud.

"And so that's your evidence!" he cried. "Well, you're mistaken. I did that myself. I was needing a little exercise and so I went out, found this warrior in the grass and manhandled him. Then I came back feeling a lot better."

Wyatt's face blazed.

"You lie, Paul Cotter," he exclaimed. "You couldn't do such a thing!"

"Oh, yes, I could," said Paul merrily, "but you're losing your temper again, Braxton. You should never call anybody a liar when you're within range of his gun. No, we're not going to shoot. We always respect a flag of truce, though we doubt whether you would. Now, I want to ask you what have we ever done to make you think we'd betray a comrade like Henry? Are you judging us by yourself? You might have a thousand warriors out there and our answer would be the same. Try to take us and see what will happen. We give you just two minutes to get out of range."

Wyatt, Blackstaffe and the two Indians retired hurriedly. Long Jim uttered an indignant exclamation.

"What's the matter with you, Jim?" asked Henry.

"I've been insulted."

"Insulted? What do you mean?"

"To think anybody could have reckoned that me an' the others would be mean enough to give you up jest to save our own hides!"

Henry's eyes twinkled.

"I know you wouldn't give me up, Jim, but how do you know, if our places had been changed, that I wouldn't have given you up?"

"You're talkin' like Shif'less Sol," said Long Jim in the utmost good humor. "Now I wonder whar that ornery, long-legged cuss is."

"Not so far away, it's safe to say. He'll be hanging around, ready to help whenever help is needed most."

"That's shore. Thar's a heap o' good in Shif'less Sol, though it don't always 'pear on the surface. Wish he wuz here. Now, what's next, Henry?"

"Waiting, waiting, and then more waiting."

"You don't think they'll give it up an' go away?"

"Not for two or three days anyhow, and I think it likely also that they'll make another general attack."

"An' you think, too, that they've all gone some distance out of rifle shot?"

"Not a doubt of it, but why do you ask, Jim?"

"You see a lot uv dead wood layin' in the bushes not twenty feet from the door uv our manshun. I'd like to drag it in an' cook that thar deer afore it sp'ils. We've some wood already, but we need more. I think we could manage so most uv the smoke would go out in front an' we wouldn't choke. Ef we're held here fur a long time we'll need that thar deer."

"Go ahead, Jim, and get it. We three will cover you with our rifles."

Jim stole forth, and making a number of trips under the muzzles of his comrades, brought in a plentiful supply of wood. It was not until he was returning with his last load that the Indians noticed him. Then they sent up a war cry, and fired several distant shots. But it was too late. Long Jim was safely inside the next moment, and the warriors, knowing how deadly were the rifles that guarded him, were afraid to return to the attack.

"Him that does at once what he oughter do don't have to do it when it's too late," said Long Jim. "I'm goin' to build a fire close to the door, where most uv the smoke will go out. Ef it gits too strong fur us we'll jest hev to put it out. But ef things work smooth I mean to cook that deer."

They cut up the deer in slices with their big hunting knives. Then they heaped the dry wood near the door and cut off many shavings and splinters, building up the heap at least part of the way outside, in such a position that they were sure the wind would take the smoke and most of the heat down the valley. Then Long Jim, feeling that the rest of the task was his, and having a certain pride, lighted the heap with his flint and steel. It blazed up rapidly, and, as they had hoped, the wind carried nearly all the smoke out of the mouth of the cave.

The dry wood burned rapidly and a great mass of coals soon gathered. It was very hot in the cave, but liberal applications of the cold water enabled them to stand it. Meanwhile all except the one on guard were busy broiling big steaks on the ends of sticks and laying them away on the leaves. The whole place was filled with the pleasant aroma.

"Warriors!" said Tom Ross, who happened to be on guard at that particular moment. "They've seen our smoke, an' mebbe our fire, an' they don't understan' it."

"You see that they keep on failing to understand it," said Henry, "and if curiosity makes any of them too curious just give him a hint."

The three went on with their cooking, "storing up like Noah against the flood," Paul said, knowing that Silent Tom would keep a watch beyond which no warrior could pass.

"Our beautiful stone house will need a good airing after all this is over," said Paul. "Smoke will gather and ashes too are flying about. But it's a grand cooking."

"So it is," said Long Jim, who was in his element. "That wuz shorely a fine fat deer. You kin pile more on that shelf in the rock, thar, Paul. Wrap the dry leaves 'roun' 'em, too. They're clean an' good. I guess that old-timer uv yourn that you've told us about often—'Lysses, wuzn't it?"

"Yes, Ulysses."

"That's right. Well, old 'Lysses in them roamings uv his, lastin' a thousand years or some sech time, would hev been glad to come upon a place like this to rest his wanderin' an' sleepy head. I've a notion uv my own too, Paul."

"What is it?"

"That Greece ain't the land it's cracked up to be. I've never heard you tell uv any rivers thar like the Ohio or Missip. I ain't heard you say anythin' about the grand forests like ourn, an' all the hundreds an' thousands uv branches an' creeks an' springs."

"No, Jim, it's a dry country, mostly bare."

"Then the wilderness here fur me. I like a big woods, a thousand miles every way, an' the leaves so thick you kin hardly see the sky above in spring. I don't see what the herds of buff'ler found thar to live on."

"They didn't have our kind of buffalo."

"Ef they didn't hev our kind they didn't hev any kind."

Paul did not argue the question with him, because it was useless to talk to Long Jim about ancient glories, when modern glories that he considered so much greater were before his eyes. Moreover, Paul himself had a love of the greenwood, and the deep streams, so numerous.

"Maybe you're right, Jim," he said.

"I guess I am," returned Long Jim emphatically. "An' I don't think so much uv them old Greek fighters 'long side the fellers that fight the warriors nowadays in these woods. You rec'lect we talked that over once before. Now, how would A-killus, all in his brass armor with his shinin' sword an' long spear come out try in' to stalk an' Injun camp. Why, they'd hear his armor rattlin' a quarter uv a mile away, an', even ef they didn't, he'd git his long spear so tangled up in the bushes an' vines that he couldn't move 'less he left it behind him. An' s'pos'n' he had to run fur it an' come to a creek or a river, which he would shorely soon do, ez thar are so many in this country, an' then he'd have to jump in with 'bout a hundred pounds uv brass armor on. Why, he'd go right to the bottom an' stick down so deep in the mud that the Injuns would hev to dive fur his scalp."

"There's no doubt of the fact that this country would not have suited Achilles."

"Not by a long shot, nor would it hev suited any other uv them fellers, be they Greek or be they Trojan. S'pose the Injuns didn't git after 'em, then think uv huntin' the buff'ler with your long spear, an' your hundred pounds uv brass clothes on. Why, the Shawnees an' Miamis are a heap more sensible than them old Greeks wuz. An', think what it would be on a real hot day to hev to wear our metal suits! Paul, I'm givin' thanks ev'ry few minutes that I wuzn't born in them times."

"A movement in the woods opposite!" announced Henry, who was on watch now.

"Tell us about it," said Long Jim. "I'm too busy to stop my work and look."

"I can see warriors stirring among the trees and bushes. They can't understand our smoke, and they're all looking at it."

"Maybe they take it for a signal," said Paul. "Almost anyone would do so."

"That's true," said Henry. "It looks natural. Well, let 'em wonder. Meanwhile we'll go on with the provisioning of our army."

"'Tain't such a terrible task," said Long Jim. "Me bein' the best cook in the world, it'll all be done in a couple uv hours more, an' bein' sparin' we kin hold out on it two or three weeks ef we hev to."

"I don't think it will be that long," said Henry confidently. "In fact we mustn't let it be too long. We've got to be out and away, following that red army with the cannon."

They continued their work without interruption, although at intervals they saw the Indians on the far slope, well out of range, but attentively watching the smoke that came from the mouth of the cavern. When the task was nearly over Long Jim took a good long look at them. Then he laughed deeply and a long time, doubling over with merriment.

"'Scuse me, Henry," he said, "but this life is so full uv jokes. I enjoy it all the time, ev'ry minnit uv it. A little while ago I wuz laughin' at the notion of A-killus with a hundred pounds or more uv brass on him, runnin' away from the warriors, jumpin' in a creek an' stickin' in the mud at the bottom clean down to his waist."

"That was the joke then, Jim, what's the joke now?"

"It's them Injuns out thar. They know we're here, an' that thar's a kind uv long narrow mouth to this bee-yu-ti-ful stone house uv ourn. They see smoke comin' out uv it, an' they don't understand it. They wonder ef fire hez busted right out uv the bowels uv the earth an' burnt us all up, an' ag'in they're 'fraid to come an' see lest they meet rifle bullets ez well ez smoke. I pity them red fellers."

"I think that pity is wasted on men who want to kill us and take our scalps."

"It ain't that. I know they want to do them things to us, but I know, too, that they ain't goin' to do 'em. It's 'cause they're so onsartain in thar minds. Onsartainness is the greatest uv all troubles. Keeps you so you can't eat an' sleep, nor keep still neither. Jest plum' w'ars you out. Ef you know what you're goin' to do you're all right, but ef you don't you're all wrong. That's the reason I feel sorry fur them Injun fellers, lookin' at our smoke an' a-guessin', an' a-guessin', an' a-guessin' an' never guessin' right. We'll be all through in a half-hour an' then we kin let the fire die."

"Right glad I'll be, too," said Paul, who was standing near the door for air, and glad they all were when the last of the deer was cooked, and the last of the coals were shoved out to die among the green bushes. While the work was going on they had frequently thrown water from the little stream over themselves to check the heat, but now they took their blankets and standing in a line at the far end of the cavern swept out all the smoke save that which lingered in the crannies until, in its own good time, it too departed.

Then all sat down near the door. A lucky turn of the wind sent the pure sweet air, crisp with the touch of spring, pouring into their cavern. It was like the breath of Heaven, taking away the sting of smoke from nostrils and throat. The place itself soon filled entirely with a new atmosphere, vital and strong. Then, one by one, they bathed their eyes and faces at the rill, and soon they were all gathered together again at the door, feeling as if they had been re-created. Indians were still visible on the opposite slope, and pity swelled once more in Long Jim's heart.

"Now they're a-guessin', an' a-guessin', an' a-guessin' ag'in," he said, "an' a-guessin' wrong ev'ry time. A little while ago our smoke bothered 'em, an' now they're bothered 'cause thar ain't no smoke. They're wonderin' ef the volcano that busted right under us hez quit so soon, an' whether we're all charred ruins, or real live fellers with rifles in our hands that kin shoot an' hit. That I call a state uv mind that would draw pity from anybody."

"Whatever it is," said Paul, "they'll not guess what has really happened, and ac our army of four is now provisioned indefinitely, we can bid them defiance."

"I like them words 'bid them defiance,'" said Long Jim. "Ef I met 'defiance' all by itself I wouldn't know what it meant, but speakin' ez you do, Paul, an' with all the surroundin's you give it I understan' it, an' it sounds mighty fine. Braxton Wyatt, I bid you defiance; Blackstaffe, I bid you defiance; Red Eagle, I bid you defiance, an' I bid defiance to ev'ry warrior an' renegade in all these woods, east uv the Missip, west uv the Missip, north uv the Ohio an' south uv the Ohio."

"But not the lightning, Jim," said Paul. "Ajax did that and got hurt."

"You needn't tell me that, Paul. I don't need the example of no Ajax to teach me sense. I ain't defyin' no lightnin', past, present or future. I know lightnin', an' I've too much respeck fur it. It's about the only thing that kin hit you an' you can't hit back."

"The Indians have retreated further into the woods," said Henry. "They're probably lying down and resting. They won't do anything today, but tonight they'll act. They have every incentive to finish their task here as soon as they can and join the main force. When dark comes we must watch two by two."

Night came slowly, the great sun blazing in red and gold in the west. Henry, with all his lore of the forest and wilderness, never failed to observe a brilliant sunset, and while he watched against an ambush he also watched the deep, rich colors as they faded. The wind had blown gently all day long, but now with the coming of the darkness it swelled into the song which he alone heard, that playing of the breeze upon the leaves, which his supersense translated into notes and bars and harmonies. Whenever he heard it he was uplifted and exalted in a singular manner, as if the distant heralds were already blowing the trumpets of victory. He was sure now of success.

He and Long Jim kept the first watch, which would last until some time after midnight, and he chose it for himself, because he felt certain the attack would come before it was over. Paul and Tom went to sleep on the leaves inside, but he and Jim lay down just within the door, where they could see some distance and yet remain well sheltered. Now and then they exchanged a word or two.

"It's eyes an' ears both, Henry," said Long Jim. "Uv course, they'll come a-creepin', an' a-slidin', an' I reckon it'll be ears that'll tell us fust they're a-knockin' at our front door."

"Right, Jim. Our ears have saved us more than once, and they're going to do it again. I've an idea that they'll spread out and approach from different points."

"I think it likely. Red Eagle, their leader, is a chief uv sense, and he'll scatter his forces so we won't be able to concentrate our fire."

They waited a long time, the wind meanwhile blowing steadily, and playing its song upon the leaves. There was no other sound, but, when it was nearly midnight, a long howl, inexpressibly dreary and weird, came out of the depths of the forest.

"That's a mighty lonely wolf," whispered Long Jim.

"Listen!" Henry whispered back. "That's no wolf. It's Shif'less Sol."

"Mebbe it's so, but he's shorely howlin' like the king of all wolves."

Long Jim was right. Perhaps no wolf had ever before howled with such vigor and endurance. The long yelping, whining note filled the whole valley and quivered on the air. It rose and sank and rose again, and it was uncanny enough to make any ordinary hearer shiver to his bones.

"Now what in thunder does he mean by sech an awful howl ez that?" whispered Long Jim.

"I know," replied Henry, with a flash of intuition. "He's hanging somewhere on the outskirts of the Indian camp, and he's warning us that the attack is at hand."

"Uv course! Uv course! I might 'a' knowed. That thar Shif'less Sol is one uv the smartest men the world hez ever seed, an' while part uv our band is inside a big part uv it is outside, a-helpin' us."

"Wake up Paul and Tom and tell 'em the time has come."

In an instant all four were crouching beside the opening, their rifles ready. The extra rifle that Henry had brought in was lying loaded at his feet, and all the while the wolf on the far ridge, moving from place to place, whined and howled incessantly. Despite Henry's knowledge of its source it made his hair rise a little, and a quiver ran along his spine. What then must be its effect upon red men, who were so much more superstitious than white men? They might think it the spirit of some great forgotten warrior that had gone into a wolf which was now giving warning.

Nevertheless he listened with all the power of his hearing for what might happen closer by, and presently he heard a rustling in the grass that was not caused by the wind. A moment later, and the rustling came from a second point and then a third. As he had surmised, Red Eagle had spread out his men until they were advancing like the spokes of a wheel toward a hub, the hub being the mouth of the cavern. And from the far ridge the warning cry of the wolf never ceased to come.

"Do you hear them creeping?" whispered Henry to Ross.

Silent Tom nodded and shoved forward the muzzle of his rifle.

"They'll be on us in a minute," he whispered back.

Paul and Long Jim had heard and they too made ready with their rifles. But all of them relied now on Henry, whose hearing was keenest. The faint, sliding sounds ceased, and he knew that the warriors had stopped to listen for their enemies, hoping to catch them off guard. The howling of the wolf also ceased suddenly, and the wind was again supreme.

At least ten minutes passed in almost intolerable waiting, and then Henry heard the renewal of the faint sliding sounds, coming from many points.

"Be ready," he whispered to his comrades. "When they're near enough they'll all jump up, utter a mighty yell and rush for us."

The rustlings came closer, then they ceased all at once, there was a half minute of breathless silence, and the air was rent by a tremendous war whoop, as twenty warriors, springing up, rushed for the opening. Henry fired straight at the heart of the first man, and snatching up the second rifle sent a bullet through another. The other three fired with deadly aim and all the assailants fell back, save one who, standing on the very edge of the opening, whirled his tomahawk preparatory to letting it go straight at Henry's head. But a moment before it could leave his hand a rifle cracked somewhere and he fell dead, shot through the head, his figure lying directly across the entrance. From the other Indians came a yell of rage and dismay, and then after a groan or two somewhere in the grass, all were gone.

But the four were reloading with feverish haste. Henry, however, found time to say to Silent Tom Ross:

"Thank you for the shot that saved me."

Tom shook his head.

"'Twuzn't me," he said.

"Then you, Paul."

"I shot at an Indian, but not that one. It was a warrior ten yards away."

"Then it must hev been you, Jim."

"It wuzn't, though. I wuz too busy with a warrior off thar to the left. When that feller wuz about to throw his tomahawk I'd done fired."

"And so it was none of you. Then I'm to be thankful that we've a friend outside. Nobody but Shif'less Sol could have fired that shot."

"An' jest in time," said Long Jim. "Good old Sol. He's settin' off somewhar in the bushes now, laughin' at the trick he's played 'em."

"They'll look for him," said Henry, "but whenever they come to a place he won't be there."

"They can't besiege us here," said Paul, "and catch Shif'less Sol at the same time. But I think we ought to remove the body of that fallen warrior at the door. I don't like to see it there."

"Neither do I," said Long Jim, and stepping forward he lifted the slain man in his arms and tossed him as far as he could down the side of the hill. They heard the body rolling and crashing some distance through the grass and bushes, and they shuddered.

"I hated to do it," said Long Jim, "but it had to be done. Besides, they'll get it now and take it away."

"You look for no other attempt tonight?" said Paul.

"No," said Henry. "They've lost too many men. They may try to starve us out."

"Now you an' Jim take your naps," said Silent Tom, "while me an' Paul keep the watch till day."

"All right," said Henry, "but I want to wait eight or ten minutes."

"What fur?"

"You'll see—or rather you'll hear."

Before the appointed time had passed the long howling note of a wolf came from a point a quarter of a mile or more away.

"Shif'less Sol is safe," said Henry, and five minutes later he and Long Jim were sound asleep.



CHAPTER XI

THE SHIFTLESS ONE

The next day dawned as brilliant as the one that had gone before, a golden sun clothing the vast green forest in a luminous light. It seemed to Henry that each day, as the spring advanced, deepened the intense emerald glow of the leaves. Down in the valley he caught the sparkle of the brook, as it flowed swiftly away toward a creek, to be carried thence to the Ohio, and on through the Mississippi to the sea.

Further up the opposite slope, five or six hundred yards away, were gathered the Indians around a fire in an opening, eating breakfast. Henry saw Wyatt and Blackstaffe with them, and he counted eighteen figures. As they had already suffered severe losses he concluded that they had received a small reinforcement, since they must have out four or five scouts and spies watching the little fortress.

Evidently they had not been daunted by their repulse of the night before, as they were broiling venison on the ends of sharpened sticks and eating heartily. The two white men finishing their food lay down on the grass and rested lazily. By and by the red members of the band did likewise.

"It's just as we thought last night," said Henry, "They will not try to carry us by assault again, but will undertake to starve us out with a long siege. Even if they've guessed the meaning of our smoke they don't know that we have in here running water that runs on forever."

"Would they care to carry on a long siege?" asked Paul.

"Maybe not, if Wyatt were not there. You know how he hates us all, and he will be continually urging them to attack us. Perhaps Red Eagle and Blackstaffe will now go on and join the main army, leaving Wyatt with a chosen band to take us by siege."

"'Pears likely to me," said Long Jim, who was listening. "It's easy enough for them to set thar out uv range an' hold us in here, but they forget one mighty important thing."

"What's that, Jim?"

"Shif'less Sol. He's in the bush, an' he kin stalk 'em when he pleases. They don't know that the warrior killed at the door last night fell afore his bullet, an' he kin bring down one uv 'em any time he feels like it. Thar's a panther in the bushes right by the side uv 'em an' they don't know it. An' it's a panther that will bite 'em, too, an' git away ev'ry time. Hark to that, will you?"

They heard the distant sound of a rifle shot and saw one of the Indians around the campfire sink over in the grass. The others uttered a terrific yell of rage, and a half-dozen darted away in the bushes.

"I ain't no prophet, nor the son uv a prophet," said Long Jim, "but I'll bet my scalp that in an hour or two they'll come back without Shif'less Sol."

"I won't take your bet," said Paul. "Six warriors started away in pursuit, and now we'll see how many return."

"The first will be back in an hour," said Long Jim, "'cause Sol won't leave no trail a-tall, a-tall. He made shore uv that afore shootin'."

"I believe you are a prophet, Jim," said Paul. "Let's watch together."

Within the appointed hour two warriors returned, bringing with them nothing that they had not taken away, and sat down in the opening, their attitude that of dejection.

"They never struck no sign of no trail, nowhere, nohow," said Long Jim, exultantly.

"Too many negatives, Jim," said Paul, reprovingly.

"Too many what?" exclaimed Long Jim, staring. "I never heard of them things afore!"

"It's all right anyhow. There comes another warrior, and he too bears no bright blonde scalp, such as adorns the head of our faithful and esteemed comrade, Solomon Hyde."

"That's three 'counted fur, an' three to come. I know, Paul, that Sol will git away, that they can't foller him nohow, but I'd like fur them three to come back empty handed right now. It would be awful to lose good old Sol. Uv course he's always wrong when he argys with me, but I'm still hopin' some day to teach him somethin', an' I don't want to lose him."

Paul saw deep anxiety on the face of Long Jim. These two were always in controversy, but they were bound together by all the ties of the border, and the loss of either would be a crushing blow to the other.

Long minutes dragged by and became an hour, and the face of Jim Hart expressed apprehension.

"It's time fur at least one more to come back," he said.

"Well, there he is," said Paul. "Don't you see him stepping out of those bushes on the east?"

"Has he anything at his belt?" asked Long Jim eagerly.

"Nothing that he doesn't usually carry. He has no yellow scalp, nor any scalp of any kind. Empty he went away and empty he has returned."

"So fur, so good. Two more are left out, an' it'll now be time fur them to come trampin' back."

"Be patient, Jim, be patient."

"I am, but you must rec'lect, Paul, that thar comin' back soon means the life uv a man, a man that's one uv us five, an' that we could never furgit ef so be the Injuns took him."

"I'm not forgetting it, Jim, but I've every confidence in Shif'less Sol. I don't believe those warriors could possibly get him."

Another half-hour dragged away, and Long Jim became more uneasy. He scanned the woods everywhere for the two missing warriors, and, at last, he drew a mighty sigh of relief when a tufted head appeared over the bushes, and a warrior returned to the opening.

"He's a Shawnee," said Long Jim. "I marked him when he went away. I kin see that he's tired an' I could tell by the bend in his shoulders that he wuz comin' back with nothin'. He's set down now, an' ez he 'pears to be talkin' I guess he's tellin' the others, to 'scuse his failure, that it wuzn't really a man that he wuz follerin', but jest a ghost or a phantom, or suthin' uv that kind. Thar ain't but one left an' he ought to be in in a few minutes."

But the few minutes and many more with them slid into the past, without bringing back the last warrior, and once more that look of deep apprehension appeared on the face of Long Jim Hart. The man should have returned long before, and Jim held him to personal accountability for it.

"I didn't like his looks when he went away," he complained to Paul. "He wuz a big feller, darker than most uv the others, an' he wuz painted somethin' horrible. I guessed by his looks that he wuz the best scout an' trailer in the band an' that he would hang on like a wolf. Ugly ez he is his face would look nice to me now, 'pearin' in that openin'. He's done outstayed his leave."

"I wouldn't be worried, Jim," said Paul. "We know what a man Sol is in the woods. No single warrior could bring him down."

"That's so. Sol's terrible smart, but then anybody might be ambushed. I tell you, Paul, that wuz the wickedest lookin' warrior I ever saw. His eyes wuz plum' full uv old Satan."

"Why, Jim, we are too far away for you to have seen anything of that kind."

"I know that's so at usual times, but them eyes uv his wuz shinin' so terrible bright with meanness that I caught thar look like the gleam uv a burnin' glass. I reckon he wuz the wust savage in all these woods. All but him hev come back more 'n a half-hour ago, an' I'm beginnin' to hev a sort uv creepy feelin'."

"Hark!" exclaimed Henry, who had been standing almost in the mouth of the opening.

"What is it, Henry? What is it?" exclaimed Long Jim eagerly.

"That strong wind brought the sound of a rifle shot. It was so faint and far away that it was no more than the snapping of a little twig, but it was a rifle shot and no mistake. Sol and that warrior have met."

"And who fired the bullet? And who received it? That's what we'd like to know!" said Paul.

Complete silence succeeded the shot. Evidently the Indians around the campfire had not heard it, as they showed no signs of interest, but the four in the mouth of the cavern waited in painful anxiety, their eyes turned toward the point from which the report had come. At last the scalp lock appeared above the bushes and four hearts sank. Then the figure of the warrior came completely into view and four hearts sprang up again. The man's left arm was held stiffly by his side and he was walking with weakness. Nor did any bright blonde scalp hang from his waist or any other part of his body.

"I knowed it! I knowed it!" exclaimed Long Jim, triumphantly. "He come too close to Sol, an' got a bullet in his arm. It must hev been a long shot or he must hev been nearly hid, else he would now be layin' dead in the bushes. But ez it is he's shorely got enough to last him fur a long time."

Paul was less vocal, but like the others he shared in the triumph of the shiftless one.

"I'll admit I was worried for a while," he said, "but Sol has given us one more proof that he can take care of himself any time and anywhere."

"And he has also proved to our besiegers," said Henry, "that every hour they spend there they're in peril of a bullet from the bush. I think it will give them a most disturbing feeling."

Henry was right, and he was also right in some of his earlier surmises. Red Eagle and Blackstaffe departed to join the main army, leaving Braxton Wyatt in command of the besieging band which had been reinforced by a half-dozen warriors. Wyatt, animated by wicked passion, was resolved not to leave until he could kill or take those in the little fortress, but he was upset by the certainty that one of the terrible five was outside. He had believed from the first that it was Henry Ware, and, when their best warrior came in shot through the arm, he was sure of it.

The warriors shared his state of mind. Their losses had inflamed them tremendously and all of them were willing to stay and risk everything for eventual triumph. Yet a terror soon fell upon them. The single marksman who roamed the woods sent a bullet singing directly through the camp, and the search for him failed as before. An hour later another who went down to the brook for water was shot through the shoulder. Wyatt saw that in spite of their desire for revenge superstitious fears were developing, and in order to prevent their spread he organized a camp, surrounded by sentinels whom nothing could escape. Then he awaited the night.

Henry and his comrades had heard the second shot and they had seen the man whose shoulder had been pierced by the bullet, run toward the others leaving a red trail behind him, but they were not alarmed this time, as nobody left the camp. Evidently the warriors, stout-hearted though they were, did not care to trail the shiftless one once more, and in the growing dusk, too, when they would be at the mercy of his rifle.

"He's got 'em stirred up a lot," said Henry, "and if they come again he will surely be a host on our side."

Another attack was made that night, but it did not come until late, halfway between midnight and morning, and, as Henry had suspected, it was not an assault, but an attempt by sharpshooters, hidden in the dark brush, to pick off watchers at the opening. The bullets of the besiegers were fired mostly at random and did nothing but chip stone. The besieged fired at the flash of the rifles and were not sure that they hit an enemy, but believed that they succeeded more than once. Then, as the night before, came the report of the lone rifle in the thicket, and a warrior, throwing up his hands, uttered his death cry, making it apparent to the defenders that the shiftless one was neither idle nor afraid.

Then the Indians withdrew and the primeval silence returned to the valley. The four remained for a while without speaking, watchful, their rifles loaded anew and their fingers on the trigger.

"Sol could come in now," said Long Jim. "He must know that the way will be clear for a little while."

"He doesn't want to come in," said Henry. "He's our link with the outside world, and when they attack he can be of more help to us because they don't know from what point he will strike. The besiegers are also besieged."

"I'm thinkin' they won't attack ag'in fur a long time," said Long Jim, "an' that bein' the case, I'm goin' to eat some uv my own cookin', knowin' that it's the finest in the world, an' then go to sleep."

"All right, Jim," said Henry, "you deserve both."

Long Jim was soon asleep, but Henry remained awake until daylight. He considered whether they should not attempt to escape now, join Shif'less Sol, and follow as fast as they could the main Indian army with the cannon. But he decided in the negative. The savages, despite their repulse, would certainly be on watch, and they were still too numerous for a fight in the bush.

Hence they entered upon another day in the cavern, which was beginning to assume some of the aspects of home. It looked cosy, with the supply of venison and bear meat, the pleasant rill of cold water, the dry leaves upon which their blankets were spread for beds, and it was filled with cold fresh air that poured in at the opening. Henry felt once more that they had had luck, and he chafed at nothing but the long delay.

And delay now it was certainly going to be, as Braxton Wyatt refrained from attack, both that day and the next, although he drew his lines so close to them that they had no chance to slip out. But cultivating Indian patience, they kept one man always on guard while the others lay at their ease on their beds of leaves, and, after the fashion of those who had much time, talked of many and various things. On the third day when the siege seemed to have settled down to a test of endurance, the day being clear and sharply bright, the four sat near the door of the fortress. Silent Tom was keeping watch with an eye that never failed, but he was able at the same time to hear what his friends said, and, when he felt the impulse, he joined in with a monosyllable or two.

They were speaking of the main band going south with the cannon for the great attack upon the settlements, a subject to which Henry's mind returned constantly. Alloway and the chiefs had a start of days, but he was incessantly telling himself that his comrades and he, as soon as they were released from the siege, could overtake them quickly. The cannon which made their great strength also made their march slow.

"Besides," he said to the others, "they will have to cross many rivers and creeks with them, and every crossing will take trouble and time. As I figure it, they could go four-fifths of the way and we could still overtake them before they reached the settlement."

"I hope we'll ruin the cannon fur 'em," said Long Jim earnestly, "an' that at last the settlers will beat 'em so bad that they'll never cross the Ohio ag'in. All this fightin' with 'em breaks up my plans."

"What are your plans, Jim?" asked Paul.

"They're big ones, but thar's nary one uv 'em that don't take in you three here an' Shif'less Sol that's outside. I want to git in a boat, an' go on one uv the rivers into the Ohio an' then down the Ohio to the Missip, an' down the Missip to New Or-lee-yuns whar them Spaniards are. I met a feller once who had been thar an' he said it wuz a whalin' big town, full uv all kinds uv strange people, an' hevin' an' inquirin' mind I like to see all kinds uv furriners an' size 'em up. Do you reckon, Paul, that New Or-lee-yuns is the biggest city in the world?"

"Oh, no, Jim. There are many much larger cities in the old continents, Europe, Asia and Africa."

"Them are so fur away that they hardly count nohow. An' thar's a lot uv big dead cities, ain't thar?"

"Certainly. Babylon, that our Bible often speaks of, and Nineveh, and Tyre, and Memphis and Thebes and——"

"Stop, Paul! That's enough. I reckon I ain't sorry them old places are dead. It took a heap uv ground fur 'em to stand on, ground that might be covered with grass an' bushes an' trees, all in deep an' purty green like them out thar. Me bein' what I am, I always think it's a pity to ruin a fine forest to put a town in its place."

"Those cities, I think, were mostly in desert countries with an artificial water supply."

"Then I don't want ever to see 'em or what's left uv 'em. People who built cities whar no water an' trees wuz ought to hev seen 'em perish. Wouldn't me an' Sol look fine trailin' 'roun' among them ruins an' over them deserts? Not a buff'ler, nor a deer, not a b'ar anywhar, an' not a fish; 'cause they ain't even a good big dew fur a fish to swim in.

"But leavin' out them old places that's plum' rusted away, an' comin' back to this here favored land o' ours, I want, after seein' everythin' thar is to be seen in the great city of New Or-lee-yuns, to go straight west with you fellers, an' Shif'less Sol that's outside, clean across the great buff'ler plains that we've talked about afore."

"Cross 'em!" said Silent Tom, speaking for the first time. "You can't cross 'em. They go on forever."

"No, they don't. Once I come across a French trapper who had been clean to the edge uv 'em, tradin' with the Injuns fur furs. I don't know how many weeks an' months it took him, but cross 'em he did, an' what do you think he found on the other side, Tom Ross?"

"The sea."

"Nary a sea. He found mountains, mountains sech ez we ain't got this side the Missip, mountains that go right up to the top uv the sky, cuttin' through clouds on the way, mountains that are covered always with snow, even in the summer, an' not a half-dozen or a dozen mountains, but hundreds uv 'em, ridges an' ranges runnin' fur hundreds an' thousands uv miles."

"An' beyond that?" asked Silent Tom.

"Nobody knows. But think what a trip it would be fur us five! Why it raises the sperrit uv romance mighty high in me. Paul hez often told us how them old Crusaders from France an' England an' Germany an' all them Old World countries started off, wearin' their iron clothes even on the hottest days, to rescue the Holy places from the infidel. I guess the sperrit uv adventure helped a heap in takin' 'em, but thar travels wouldn't be any greater, an' grander than ourn across all them great plains an' into them almighty high mountains beyond. You couldn't even guess what we'd find."

Long Jim drew a deep breath, as his spirit leaped before him into the vast unknown spaces, and Paul's eyes sparkled. The seed that Jim was sowing fell upon fertile ground.

"I believe I'd rather travel in the unknown than the known," the boy said. "We'd come to rivers, big ones and lots of 'em, too, that no white man had ever seen before, and, when at last we reached the mountains, we'd explore in there for months and months, a year, two years may be. And we'd name the highest five peaks for ourselves."

"An' I'd want a river named after me, too, Paul, an' I don't want it to be any little second rate river, either. I want it to be long an' broad an' deep an' full uv mighty clear water, an' when after a while, fur hunters come along in thar canoes, I'd say to 'em, 'Dip down! Dip down with your paddles an' don't be afeard. This is the Long Jim Hart river, an' me bein' Jim Hart, the owner, I give you leave.'"

"I heard the sound o' a shot," said Silent Tom.

"And there goes another," said Henry. "It seemed to be up the valley. Is it possible that Shif'less Sol has let himself be trapped in broad daylight?"

All crowded into the doorway and looked and listened, intense anxiety, despite themselves, tearing at their hearts. Shots at such a time were deeply significant. The Indians at the camp opposite, Braxton Wyatt with them, had risen and were looking fixedly in the same direction.

A long triumphant shout suddenly came from a point in the forest up the valley, and then was succeeded by another in which six or seven voices joined, the Indian chant of victory. The hearts of the four dropped like plummets in a pool, and they gazed at one another, aghast.

"It can't be that they've got him!" exclaimed Long Jim.

"Listen to that song!" faltered Paul. "It celebrates the taking of a scalp!"

"I'm afeared fur good old Sol," said Tom Ross.

Henry was silent, but a great grief oppressed him. The Indian chant was so triumphant that it could mean nothing but the taking of a scalp, and there was no scalp but that of the shiftless one to take.

Louder swelled the song, while the singers were yet invisible among the bushes, and suddenly, the band gathered in the opening, began to sing a welcome, as they danced around the coals of their low campfire. Around and around they went, leaping and chanting, and the songs of both bands came clearly to those in the cave.

Henry's face darkened and his teeth pressed closely together. An accident must have happened or the shiftless one would never have allowed himself to be trapped in the day. Yet he had hope, he said resolutely to himself that he must retain hope, and he watched continually for the smaller band that was approaching through the bushes.

They emerged suddenly into view, and as his heart sank again, he saw that the leading warrior was whirling a trophy swiftly around his head. The cries of the others at sight of the scalp redoubled.

"It's Sol's, uv course!" growled Long Jim. "He's gone an' a better man never trod moccasin!"

The others were silent, overwhelmed with grief. The two bands now joined and the dance of a score of warriors became wilder and wilder. At intervals they caught a glimpse of the scalp as it was waved aloft, and they raged, but were powerless.

"We can't go after them cannon now," said Long Jim. "We've got to stay an' git revenge fur poor old Sol."

"An' that's shore," said Tom Ross.

Henry and Paul were silent. It was the most terrible irony to stand there and see the savages rejoicing over the cruel fate of their comrade, and, as the water rose in their eyes, there came at the same time out of the depths of the forest the long lone howl of the wolf, now a deep thrilling note, something like a chord.

"It's Shif'less Sol! he's safe!" cried Long Jim. "It's jest a trick they're workin', tryin' to beat down our sperrits, an' good old Sol is tellin' us so!"

"It's shorely time," said Silent Tom, "an' that's an old scalp they're whirlin'."

They had never before known the cry of a wolf to have such a deep and thrilling quality, but it came again as full and resounding as before, and they were satisfied. Not a doubt remained in the heart of any one of them. The shiftless one was safe and he had twice told them so. How could they ever have thought that he would allow himself to be trapped so easily? The savages might dance on and sing on as much as they pleased, but it did not matter now.

"After lookin' at them gyrations," said Long Jim, "I needs refreshment. A dancin' an' singin' party always makes me hungry. Will you j'in me in a ven'son an' water banquet, me noble luds?"

"Go ahead the rest o' you," said Tom Ross, "I'll watch."

They drank from the rill, lay down on their couches and ate the deer meat with splendid appetites. The revulsion was so great that anything would have been good to them.

"That wuz a purty smart trick, after all," said Long Jim. "Ef they'd made us think they'd got Shif'less Sol's scalp they'd make us think, too, that they'd git our own soon. An' they reckoned then, mebbe, that we'd be so weak-sperrited we'd come out an' surrender."

"I foresee another dull and long period of inaction," said Henry.

And what he said came to pass. They remained two more days in their little fortress, besieged so closely that they did not dare to move. Yet the besiegers themselves were kept in a constant state of alarm. One of their best hunters, sent out for deer, failed to come back, and his body was found in the forest. The others began to be oppressed by superstitious fears, and it required all of Wyatt's eloquence and force to keep them to their task.

It was in Henry's mind to wait for a wet night and then risk all and go. It was the rainy time of the year, and on their sixth night in the cavern the storm that they wished for so earnestly came, preceded by the usual heralds, deep thunder and vivid lightning.

The four made ready swiftly. Every one carried upon his back his blanket and a large supply of venison. The locks of rifles and other weapons and powder were kept dry under their hunting shirts. Henry thrust the extra rifle into a crevice, having an idea that he might need it some day, and would find it there. Then as the thunder and lightning ceased and the deep darkness and rushing rain came they took a last look at the strong little castle that had been such a haven to them. Only eyes like theirs trained to dusk could have made out its walls and roof and floor.

"It's like leaving home," said Paul.

"Thar's one good thing," said Long Jim. "The savages in thar meanness can't destroy it."

Henry led, and, Silent Tom bringing up the rear, they slipped into the open air, keeping close to one another lest they be lost in the thick darkness. Despite the pouring rain and the lash of the wind it felt good out there. They had been so long in one small close place that it was freedom to have again the whole open world about them. The four stood a little while to breathe it in and then Henry led through the underbrush to the top of the hill.

"Bend low," he whispered to Paul, who was just behind him. "They must have a sentinel near here somewhere, and we don't want to run into him."

Paul obeyed him and went on, but none of them noticed that Tom Ross, who was last, turned softly aside from the path, and then swung the butt of his rifle with all his might. But all heard the impact and the sound of a fall, and, as they whirled around, Henry asked:

"What is it?"

"The sentinel," replied Ross. "He won't bother us."

On they went in single file again, but Paul shuddered. As their flight lengthened they increased their speed, and, when they were a half mile away, Paul jumped, as the long piercing howl of the wolf rose directly in front of him. It was Henry sending the signal to the shiftless one, and in an instant they heard a similar note in answer from a distant point.

As they advanced further the signals were repeated and then the shiftless one came with swiftness and without noise through the bushes, rising up like a phantom before them. There were happy handshakes and the five, reunited once more, fled southward through the darkness and rain.

"I thought you'd come out tonight, Henry," said Shif'less Sol. "An' I wuz waitin' on the ridge 'til I heard your signal. Ain't it grand fur all o' us to be together ag'in, an' to hev beat Braxton Wyatt?"

"It was you, Sol, who were our greatest help."

The shiftless one chuckled, pleased at the compliment.

"Guess I wuz the flyin' wing o' our little army," he said. "Mebbe Wyatt an' them warriors will hang 'roun' thar two or three days afore they find out we've gone."

"Not that long. The head of a warrior met Tom's clubbed rifle as we came away, and if they don't find him tonight they certainly will in the morning."

"I don't care anyway. That band can't overtake us, an' it can't trail us on a night like this. Thar! They've found the warrior!"

The faint sound of a yell, more like an echo, came on the wind and rain, but it brought no fears to the five. They were quite sure that no pursuit could overtake them now. After a while, they let their gait sink to a walk, and began to pick their way carefully through the dripping forest. As they were wet, all save their ammunition, they did not hesitate to wade many flooded brooks and they felt that when day came their trail would still be hidden from even the keenest of the Indian trailers.

Henry did not believe that Wyatt and his warriors could find them unless by chance, and as they were now many miles from the cavern, and the day was not far away, he began to think of a stopping place. Continued exertion had kept them warm, despite the rain, but it would not be wise to waste their strength in a rapid flight, continued a long time.

"All of you keep an eye for shelter," he said "Maybe we can find a windrow that will at least shut off a part of the rain."

He alluded to the masses of trees sometimes thrown down by a hurricane, often over a swath not more than two hundred yards wide. Where men did not exist to clear them away they were numerous in Kentucky, accumulating for uncounted years. But it was more than an hour before they came upon one of these heaps of tree trunks thrown thickly together.

Yet it was a good den or lair. Many of the fallen leaves had sifted in and lay there. Perhaps bears had used these recesses in the winter, but the five were not scrupulous. Their lives were passed in the primitive, and they knew how to make the most of everything that nature offered, no matter how little.

"I reckon we den up here," said Long Jim.

"We do," said Henry, "and we might go farther and find a much worse place."

The trees evidently had been thrown down a long time, as great masses of vines had grown over them, forming an almost complete roof. Very little rain came through, and, as they had managed to keep their ammunition as well as their blankets dry, the lair was better than anything for which they had hoped. Trusting to the darkness and their concealment, all five wrapped themselves in their blankets and went to sleep.

Now and then drops of rain forced their way through the vines and fell on the sleepers, but they did not awake. Such trifles as these did not disturb them. They were a part of the great wilderness, used to its ways, and troubled little by the ordinary hardships of human beings. The mental tension and the anxieties from which they had suffered were gone. The siege broken, and reunited, they could pursue the main force and the cannon with speed.

The great revulsion made their sleep easy and untroubled. Not one of them stirred as he lay beneath the covering made by the ancient hurricane, and every one of them breathed long and deep.

Nature was watching over them while they slept. They belonged to the forest, and the forest was taking care of its own. The rain increased and it was driven harder by the wind, but folded in their blankets they remained snug, while their clothing dried upon them. A bear that had hibernated there, fleeing from the rain sought his own den, but he was driven away by the man smell. A bedraggled panther had an idea of taking the same shelter, but he too was repelled in like manner.

The forest watched over its own not only through the night but after the sun rose. Braxton Wyatt and his warriors, consumed with rage, could find no sign of a trail. They had entered the cavern and seized upon the portions of venison left there, although the rifle escaped their notice, and then they had begun the vain pursuit. Long before day they gave it up, and started after the main army.

It had been Henry's intention to sleep only the two hours until dawn, but the relaxation, coming after immense exertions and anxieties, kept him and all the others sound asleep long after the dripping forest was bathed in sunlight. It was a bright ray of the same sunlight entering through a crevice and striking him in the eye that awakened him. He looked at his comrades. They were so deep in slumber that not one of them stirred.

He heard a light swift sound overhead and saw that it was a gray squirrel running along their roof. Then came a song, pure and sweet, that thrilled through the forest. It was sung by a small gray bird perched on a vine almost directly over Henry's head, and he wondered that such a volume of music could come from such a tiny body.

The squirrel and the bird together told him that nothing unusual was stirring in the forest. If warriors were near that morning song would not be poured forth in such a clear and untroubled stream. The bird was their warder, their watchman, and he told them that it was sunrise and all was well. Feeling the utmost confidence in the small sentinel, and knowing that they needed more strength for the pursuit, Henry closed his eyes and went to sleep again.

The little gray bird was the most redoubtable of sentinels. Either the figures below were hidden from him or instinct warned him that they were friends. He hopped from bough to bough of the great windrow, and nearly always he sang. Now his song was clear and happy, saying that no enemy came in the forest. He sang from sheer delight, from the glory of the sunshine, and the splendor of the great green forest, drying in the golden glow. Now and then the gray squirrel came down from a tree and ran over the windrow. There was no method in his excursions. It was just pure happiness, the physical expression of high spirits.

The shiftless one was the next to awake, and he too looked at his sleeping comrades. His task had been the hardest of them all. Although his body had acquired the quality of steel wire, it had yielded nevertheless under the strain of so many pursuits and flights. Now he heard that bird singing above him and as it told him, too, that no danger was near, he shifted himself a little to ease his muscles and went to sleep again.

A half-hour later Long Jim came out of slumberland, but he opened only one eye. The bird was trilling and quavering in the most wonderful way, telling him as he understood it, to go back whence he had come, and he went at once. Then came Paul, not more than half awakened, and the music of the song lulled him. He did not have time to ask himself any question before he had returned to sleep, and the bird sang on, announcing that noon was coming and all was yet well.



CHAPTER XII

ON THE GREAT TRAIL

An hour after the little gray bird had announced that it was noon and all was well Henry awoke, and now he sat up. The bird, hearing rustlings below, and feeling that his task of watchman was over, flew away. His song was heard for a moment or two in the boughs of a tree, then it grew faint and died in the distance. But his work was done and he had done it well.

Henry put his hand on Sol's shoulder, and the shiftless one also sat up.

"You've slept a week, Sol," Henry said.

"That's a whopper. I just laid down, slept a minute, waked up, heard a bird singin', then slept another minute."

"Just the same happened to me, but it's past midday. Look through the vines there and see the sun."

"It's so. How time does pass when the warriors are lettin' your scalp alone."

"Wake up, Jim."

Shif'less Sol poked Long Jim with his moccasined foot.

"Here you, Jim Hart," he said. "Wake up. Do you think we've got nothin' to do but set here, an' listen to you snorin' fur two days an' two nights, when we've got to overtake an Injun army and thrash it?"

"Don't tech me with your foot ag'in, Sol Hyde, an' don't talk to me so highfalutin'. It's hard to git me mad, but when I do git mad I'm a lot wuss than Paul's friend, A-killus, 'cause I don't sulk in my tent, specially when I haven't got any. I jest rises up an' takes them that pesters me by the heels an' w'ar 'em out ag'in the trees."

"You talk mighty big, Saplin'."

"I'm feelin' big. I think I'll go out an' stretch myself, bein' ez it's a fine day an' these are my woods."

The talk awoke Paul also and all went outside. Henry and Silent Tom scouted for some distance in every direction, and, finding no sign of an enemy, the five ate cold venison and drank from one of the innumerable streams. Then they deliberated briefly. They must find the trail of the Indian army and they were quite sure that it lay toward the east. If it were there they could not miss it, as a way for the cannon had to be cut with axes. Hence their council lasted only five minutes, and then they hastened due eastward.

Speed was impeded by the creeks and brooks, all of which were swollen yet further, compelling them in several cases to swim, which had to be done with care, owing to the need of keeping their ammunition dry. Night came, the great trail was still unfound, and they thought they might possibly have been mistaken in going to the east, but when they debated it again they resolved to continue their present course. Every probability favored it, and perhaps the Indian army had taken a wider curve than they had thought.

"I've had so much rest and sleep that I'm good fur all night," said Long Jim, "an' the ground bein' so soft from so much rain them cannon wheels will cut ruts a foot deep."

"That's so," said Shif'less Sol. "Why we could blindfold ourselves an' hit that trail. Out o' the mouths o' men like Long Jim wisdom comes sometimes, though you wouldn't think it."

"All that you are, Solomon Hyde," said Long Jim, "I've made. When I fust knowed you a tow-headed boy you didn't have sense enough to come in out uv the rain. Now, by long years uv hard trainin', mixin' gentleness with firmness, I've turned you into somethin' like a scout an' trailer an' Injun fighter, fit to travel in the comp'ny uv a man like myself. Now an' then when I look at you, Solomon Hyde, I'm proud uv you, but I'm prouder uv myself fur makin' a real man out uv sech poor stuff to start with."

"I'm still willin' to learn, Jim," grinned Shif'less Sol.

"The trail! The trail!" suddenly exclaimed Henry.

They had emerged from heavy forest into a stretch of canebrake through which ran a long swath, trampled by many feet and cut by deep ruts. Here the cannon had passed perhaps a week ago, and they could follow the ruts as easily as the wheel of an engine follows the rails.

"I 'low they can't make more'n ten or fifteen miles a day," said Silent Tom.

"While we, if we were hard pressed, could go thirty or forty, or more," said Paul.

"We could overtake 'em in three days," said Henry.

"An' hevin' done it," said the shiftless one, "what are we goin' to do next?"

"It's the cannon we're after, as we all know," said Henry, "and I confess that I can't see yet how we're going to get at 'em."

"I fancy we can tell more about it when we approach the Indian army," said Paul.

"There's no other way," said Henry. "If we keep close beside 'em we may get a chance at the cannon, but we've got to look out for Braxton Wyatt and his gang, who will be just behind us, on the same trail."

"Then we go straight ahead?" said Paul.

They followed the great trail nearly all night, under the clear moon and stars, a fine drying wind having taken away all the dampness. As usual Henry led and Silent Tom brought up the rear, the one in front keeping an eye for a rear guard and the one behind watching for the advance of Braxton Wyatt's force. The trail itself was leisurely. The speed of the cannon had to be the speed of the army, and there was ample time for parties to leave on hunting expeditions, and then rejoin the main band with their spoils.

"They're living well," said Henry, as he pointed to the dead coals of numerous fires, and the quantities of bones scattered about "They've had buffalo, bear, deer, turkey and lots of small game."

"It's an ideal country for an Indian army to travel in," said Paul. "The game fairly swarms in it."

"An they don't spare it neither," said Shif'less Sol. "These warriors are jest eatin' thar way down to the settlements."

"Here's where they kept their cannon," said Henry, pointing to a place near the edge of the opening, "and they covered them for the night with strong canvas."

"How do you know that?" asked Long Jim.

"See this thorn bush growing just beside the place. The edge of the canvas caught on the thorns and when they pulled it away it left these threads. See, here are three of 'em."

"But how do you know it was strong canvas?"

"Because if it hadn't been, more than these three threads would have been left. I'm astonished at you! What have you done with your wits? It was just over there, too, that Alloway and Cartwright sat with the chiefs and held a council. Two or three bushes were cut down close to the ground in order that a dozen men or so might sit comfortably in a ring. They smoked a pipe, and came to some agreement. Here are the ashes that were thrown from the pipe after they were through with it. Then Alloway and Cartwright walked off in this direction. You can see even now the imprint of their boot heels. Moccasins would leave no such trace. It must have rained that night, too, because they spread their tent and slept in it."

"You're guessing now, Henry," said Long Jim.

"I don't have to guess. This is the simplest thing in the world. One has only to look and see. Here are the holes where they drove the tent pegs. But the two officers did not go to sleep at once after the council. They sat in the tent and talked quite a while."

"How do you know?"

"More ashes, and on the ground covered by the tent. Evidently they have pipes of their own, as most all English officers do, and they wouldn't have sat here, and smoked, while on a hard march, if they did'nt have something important to talk about. I take it that the leaders of the Indian army are trying to solve some question. Perhaps they don't know which of the settlements to march against first."

"Over here is where they kept the horses fur the big guns," said Silent Tom. "Mebbe we might git at them horses, Henry."

"We might, but it wouldn't help us much. The warriors are so many that, although they don't like work, they could take turns at pulling 'em along with ropes. They could do that too, with the wagons that carry the ammunition for the cannon. Come on, boys. It don't pay us to linger over dead campfires. Here goes the trail which is as broad as a road."

He led the way, but stopped again in a few minutes.

"They had their troubles when they started the next morning," he said, as he pointed with a long forefinger.

They saw flowing directly across the road one of the innumerable creeks, swollen to a depth of about four feet by the rain, and with rather a swift current. Hundreds of footprints had been left in the soft soil near the stream, and they examined them carefully. In two places these traces were packed closely.

"About twenty warriors gathered at each of these spots," said Henry, "and lifted the cannon into the wagons. Look how deep some of these footmarks are! That was when the weight of the cannon sank them down. The Indians could have gone across the creek without the slightest trouble, but the cannon and the wagons delayed them quite a while. Come, boys, we've got to do some wading ourselves."

Reaching the opposite bank they found where the cannon had been lifted out again, and saw the deep ruts made by their wheels running on through the forest.

"I don't find the traces of no boot heels," said Silent Tom. "What's become uv them English?"

"They're riding now," replied Henry. "They're not as used as the Indians to forest marches, and they've all been compelled to take to the wagons for a while. But they won't stay in 'em long."

"Why not?"

"Because Alloway won't want the warriors to look down on him or his men, and the Indians are impressed by physical strength and tenacity. As soon as they're fairly rested he'll get out and make all the others get out too."

In a half-hour he called their particular attention to a point in the great trail.

"All of them got out of the wagons here," he said. "Look where the boot heels cut into the ground. What's this? A warrior coming out of the forest has joined them here. Perhaps he was a man sent by Braxton Wyatt or Blackstaffe to tell how they were getting along in their siege of us, and here is another trail, where a dozen warriors split from the band."

"A huntin' party, o' course," said the shif'less one as he looked at it. "They send 'em off on ev'ry side, ev'ry day, an' we've got to watch mighty close, lest some o' them light on us."

"Still," said Henry, "when they got their game they wouldn't come straight back to a trail already old. They'd go on ahead to catch up. It's lucky that we've got plenty of venison and don't have to do any hunting of our own. Jim, you certainly did noble work as a cook back there."

"Which reminds me," said Long Jim, "that I'll chaw a strip uv venison now."

"Jim wuz always a glutton," said the shiftless one, "but that won't keep me from j'inin' him in his pleasant pursuit."

Daylight found them in dense canebrake with the road that the army had been forced to cut for the cannon leading on straight and true.

"We'll find another camp about a half mile ahead," said Henry.

"Now that's a guess," said Long Jim.

"Oh, no, it isn't. Jim, you must really learn to use your eyes. Look up a little. See, those buzzards hovering over a particular spot. Now, one darts down and now another rises up. I suppose they're still able to pick a few shreds of flesh from the under side of the big buffalo bones."

"I reckon you're right, Henry."

They reached the old camp presently, within the indicated distance, but did not linger, pressing on over little prairies and across streams of all sizes. They noticed again and again where the hunting parties left the main army, and then where they came back.

"They've lots of ammunition," said Henry. "They must have the biggest supply that was ever yet furnished by Detroit."

"Mebbe we kin git some uv it fur ourselves later on," said Tom Ross.

"That's not a bad idea, to get ammunition at the expense of the enemy. Their bullets might not fit our rifles, but we could use their powder. We may have our chance yet to raid 'em."

At noon they turned aside into the forest and sought a deep recess where they could rest and plan. Foliage and earth were dry now and they stretched themselves luxuriously, as they ate and talked. They reckoned that they could overtake the army on the following night or at least on the morning after, as its progress had been manifestly slower even than they had thought. Taking cannon through the great woods in which not a single road existed was a most difficult task. But every one of the five felt the need of exceeding great caution. Besides the hunters they might have to deal with the party that had left under Blackstaffe and Red Eagle. For all they knew, this band might have taken a shorter course through the woods, and chance might bring on an encounter at any time.

"If they should strike our trail they're likely to follow it up," said the shiftless one. "Some o' 'em in lookin' fur game are shore to be far in the rear, an' them too may stumble on us."

"'Pears to me," said Long Jim, "that we've come knowin' it, plum' into a big hornet's nest, but we ain't stung yet."

"An' we ain't goin' to be," said the shiftless one confidently.

Thus did the knights of the forest discuss their chances, and they were as truly knights as any that ever tilted lance for his lady, or, clothed in mail, fought the Saracen in the Holy Land, and, buried in the vast forest, their dangers were greater, they so few against so many.

Knowing now that they had no need to hurry and that to hurry was dangerous, they lay a long time in the woods, and some of them slept a little, while the others watched. But those who slept awoke when they heard the haunting cry of the owl. The five sat up as another owl far to the left hooted in answer. Not one of them was deceived for an instant, as the signals were exchanged three times. Indian, they knew, was talking to Indian.

"What do you think it means, Henry?" asked the shiftless one.

"I've a notion that a small band has struck our trail and that it's signaling to a bigger one."

"I'm sorry o' that."

"So am I, because it will put the great band on guard against us. Our best weapon would have been the ignorance of the Indians that we were near."

"Ef troubles git in our way we kin shoot 'em out uv it," said Long Jim philosophically.

"So we can," said Henry, "but there goes one of the owls again, and it's much nearer to us than it was before."

"An' thar's the other answerin' from the other side," said Shif'less Sol, "an' it, too, is much nearer."

"'Pears ez ef they knowed more about us than we thought they did, an' are tryin' to surround us," said Long Jim.

"An' we jest won't be surrounded," said Shif'less Sol. "We ain't trained to that sort o' thing an' it ain't a habit that we'd like."

"Come on," said Henry, and, rifle on shoulder, he flitted through the thickets. The others followed him in single file, and they advanced toward a point mid-way between the opposing bands. Their line formed according to its invariable custom, Henry leading, the shiftless one next, followed by Paul, with Long Jim following, and Silent Tom covering the rear.

They traveled now at high speed, and Henry felt that the need was great. He was sure that the bands, besides signaling to each other, were also calling up wandering hunters. The circle about them might be more nearly complete than they had thought. They kept to the darkest of the forest and fled on like a file of phantoms. A rifle suddenly cracked in the thicket and a bullet whistled by. Henry's rifle flashed in reply and no further sound came from the bushes. Then the phantoms sped on faster than ever.

Henry reloaded his rifle, and all of them listened to the chorus of the owls, as they cried to one another in a circle the diameter of which might have been a third of a mile. The heart of every one beat faster, not alone because they were running, but because of that demon chorus. All the warriors had heard the rifle shots and they knew now just about where the fugitives were. The cry of an owl has a singularly weird and haunting quality, and when so many of them came together, coming as the five knew, from the throats of those who meant them death, its effect was appalling even upon such hardy souls as theirs.

"I wish they'd stop them cries," growled Long Jim. "They git into my bones, an' give me a sort uv creepy weakness 'bout the knees."

"Don't let your knees buckle," said Shif'less Sol. "Good knees are mighty important, jest now, 'cause you know, Jim, we'll hev to make a pow'ful good run fur it, an' ef your legs give out I'll hev to stay back with you."

"I know you would, Sol, but that creepy feelin' 'bout my knees don't weaken the muscles an' j'ints. Runnin' is my strongest p'int."

"I know it. I don't furgit the time your runnin' saved us all when the emigrant train wuz surrounded by the tribes."

"Down!" suddenly called Henry, and the five dropped almost flat, but without noise, in the bushes. Two dusky figures, evidently scouts, were running directly across their line of flight about fifty yards ahead of them. But Henry was quite sure that the two warriors had not seen them and the five, lying close and scarcely breathing, watched the dusky figures. The warriors paused a moment or two, looked about them, but, seeing nothing went on, and were quickly lost to sight in the brush.

"It was lucky," said Henry, as they rose and resumed their flight, "that the warriors didn't look more closely. I think fortune is favoring us."

"It ain't fortune or luck," said Shif'less Sol. "It's jedgment, an' our long an' hard trainin'. I tell you jedgment is a power."

A fierce yell arose behind them, a yell full of savagery and triumph.

"They've hit our trail in the moonlight," said Henry, "and as we have no time to dodge or lie in cover, there's nothing to do but run faster."

"An' keep a good lookout to both right an' left," said Shif'less Sol. "They're comin' now from all directions."

The owls now began to hoot in great numbers, and with extraordinary ferocity. The cry made upon Paul's sensitive mind an impression that never could be effaced. He associated it with cruelty, savagery and deadly menace. His ear even multiplied and exaggerated the sinister calls. The woods were filled with them, they came from every bush, and the menacing circle was steadily and surely drawing closer.

Henry heard the heavy panting breaths behind him. They were bound to grow weary before long. Even if one were made of steel he could not run on forever. But he recalled that while they could not do so neither could the warriors. His keen ear noted that no cry of the owl came from the point straight ahead, and he concluded therefore that the circle was not yet complete. There was a break in the ring and he meant to drive straight through it.

"Now, boys," he said, "slow up a little to let your breath come back, then we'll make a great burst for it and break through."

Their pace sank almost to a walk, but the beat of their hearts became more nearly regular, and strength came back. Meanwhile the cries of the owls never ceased. They drummed incessantly on the ears of Paul, and made a sort of fury in his brain. It was a species of torture that made him rage more than ever against his pursuers.

They stopped in a clump of cane and watched a single warrior pass near. When he was gone they stepped from the cane and began to run at high speed toward the opening in the circle which Henry judged could not be more than a hundred yards away. It was fortunate for them that the forest here contained little undergrowth to impede them.

It was a great burst of speed to make after so long a flight, but the brief rest had helped them greatly, and they spurned the earth behind them. Now the Indian warriors caught sight of them, and rifles flashed in the night. The last owl ceased to hoot, and instead gave forth the war hoop. The forest rang with fierce yells, many anticipating a triumph not yet won. Many shots were fired on either flank, and leaves and twigs fell, but the five, bending low, fled on and did not yet reply.

The young leader in those desperate moments was cool enough to see that no shots came from the point straight ahead, making it sure that the opening was still there. He counted, too, on the dusk and the generally poor markmanship of the savages. A single glance backward showed him that none of his comrades was touched. Farther away on either side he saw the leaping forms of the warriors and then the flash of their wild shots. And still his comrades and he were untouched.

"Now, boys," he cried, "let out the last link in the chain!" and the five bounded forward at such speed that the Indians in the dusk could not hit the flying targets, and, still untouched they drove through the opening, and beyond. But the warriors behind them joined in a mass and came on, yelling in anger and disappointment.

"Now, Sol," said Henry, "we might let 'em have a couple of bullets. The rest of you hold your fire!"

Henry and the shiftless one, wheeling swiftly, fired and hit their targets. A cry of wrath came from the pursuers, but they dropped back out of range, and stayed there awhile. Then they crept closer, until a bullet from Silent Tom gave them a deadly warning to drop back again, which they did with great promptness.

Then the five, summoning all their reserves of strength, sped southward at a rate that was too great for their pursuers. Paul soon heard the owls calling again, but they were at least a half mile behind them, and they no longer oppressed him with that quality of cruelty and certain triumph. Now they only denoted failure and disappointment, and, as his high tension relaxed, he began to laugh.

"Stop it, Paul! Stop it!" said the shiftless one sharply. "It's too soon yet to laugh! When the time comes I'll tell you!"

Paul checked himself, knowing that the laugh was partly hysterical, and closely followed Henry who was now turning toward the west, leading them through rolling country, clothed in the same unbroken forest and undergrowth. It was his idea to find a creek or brook and then wade in it for a long distance to break the trail, the simplest of devices, one used a thousand times with success on the border, and they ran at their utmost speed, in order to be out of sight of even the swiftest warrior when they should come to water.

They passed several tiny brooks too small for their purpose, but, in a half-hour, came to one two feet deep, flowing swiftly and with muddy current. Henry uttered a sigh of satisfaction as he stepped into the water, and began to run with the stream. He heard four splashes behind him, as the others stepped in also, and followed.

"As little noise as you can," he said. "There may be a lurking warrior about somewhere."

After the first hundred yards they waded slowly, in order to avoid more splashing, and, after another hundred, stopped to listen. They heard faint cries from the warriors, but they were very far away, at least a mile, they thought, and the hearts of every one of the five rose with the belief that the Indians had taken the wrong course. But they neglected no precaution, wading in the middle of the brook for a long distance, the water enclosed on either side with a thick and heavy growth of willows and bushes so dense, in truth, that one could not see into the stream without parting the foliage.

"Didn't I tell you we were lucky!" said Henry. "This branch poked itself right across our path at the right moment to help us break our trail."

"Jedgment, Henry! Jedgment!" said the shiftless one. "We knowed that it wuz best fur us to find a branch, an' so we jest run on till we found one."

"It 'pears to me," said Long Jim, "that we're takin' to water a heap. Always jumpin' into some branch or creek or river an' wadin', I feel myself turnin' to a fish, a great big long catfish sech as you find in the Ohio. Fins are comin' out on my ankles right now."

"An' your face is plum' covered with scales already," said Shif'less Sol. "You're shorely a wonder, Jim."

Long Jim involuntarily clapped his hand to his face, and then both laughed.

"At any rate," said Long Jim, "I'll be glad when we take to dry ground ag'in."

But Henry led them a full mile, until he parted the bushes, and stepped out on the west bank. The others followed and all five stood a moment or two on the bank, while the water dripped from their leggings.

"Them fins has done growed on me, shore," whispered Long Jim to Shif'less Sol. "Cur'us how water sticks to deerskin."

"How much further do we go, Henry?" asked Paul.

"Far enough to be safe," replied Henry. "I think two or three miles more will put us out of their range. The walking won't be bad, and it will help to dry our leggings."

"Wish I had one o' their hosses to ride on," said Shif'less Sol. "'Twould jest suit me, a lazy man. I guess hosses wuzn't ever used in these parts afore, but I'd ride one like the old knights that Paul talks about, an' you, Long Jim, could hang on to the tail."

"I wouldn't hang on to the tail of nobody's hoss, an' least uv all to the tail uv yourn, Sol Hyde."

"You'd hev to, Jim Hart, 'cause you'd be my serf. Knights always had serfs that wuz glad to hang on to the tails o' their hosses, when the knights would let 'em. Wouldn't I look grand, chargin' through the forest on my war hoss, six feet high, me in my best Sunday brass suit, speckled with gold scales, with my silver spear twenty feet long, an' my great two-handed, gold-hilted sword beside me, an' Long Jim tied to the tail o' my hoss, so he wouldn't git tired an' fall behind, when I wuz chargin' the hull Shawnee tribe?"

"You'll never see that day, Sol Hyde. When we charge the Shawnee tribe I'll be in front, runnin' on these long legs uv mine, an' you'll be 'bout a hundred yards behind, comin' on in a kinder doubtful an' hesitatin' way."

"Here is good dry ground now," said Henry, "and I don't think we need to go any farther."

They were on a small hilltop, densely covered with trees, and the five gladly threw themselves down among the trunks. They were sure now that they were safe from pursuit, and they felt elation, but they said little. All of them took off their wet leggings and moccasins, and laid them out to dry, while they rested and ate venison.