at is with
all his faculties and senses alert, for the strain on him had been so
great that the process required a minute or two. Then he looked around
the little fortress which so aptly could be called a hole in the wall.
Many dried leaves had been brought in and placed in five heaps, the
fifth for Shif'less Sol when he should come. The dressed deer, rolled in
leaves, lay at the far end. The little stream was trickling away,
singing its eternal pleasant song, and a bright shaft of sunlight,
entering, illuminated one part of the cave but left the other in cool
dusk.

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