smile at what he deemed his
weakness, that that member of the Yankee's face was at least two feet
long, and was formed after the pattern of a somewhat irregular Bologna
sausage. Indiarubber quickly put this to rights, however, and he set to
again with renewed zeal. Throwing back his head, and looking up as if
for inspiration, his wide-awake fell off, and it required a sudden and
powerful effort to prevent his head and shoulders falling in the same
direction.

Having replaced his hat and shaken himself a little, the persevering man
once more applied himself to his task of finishing the Yankee's
portrait, which, to say truth, now presented a variety of jagged and
picturesque outlines, that savoured more of caricature than anything
Bertram had ever yet accomplished. For some time the pencil moved upon
the paper pretty steadily, and the artist was beginning to congratulate
himself on his success, when, to his horror, he observed that the tree
against which the Yankee leaned was in the act of falling over to the
right. The same instant he received a shock upon the left side, and
awoke to find that he had fallen heavily upon poor Gibault's breast, and
that Waller and his tree were _in statu quo_. But Gibault cared not; he
was too deeply intent upon sleeping to mind such trifles.

Bertram smiled meekly as he resumed his sitting posture; but the smile
faded and was replaced by a gaze of mute astonishment as he observed
that he had depicted Waller's right eye upon his chin, close beneath his
nose! There seemed to be some sort of magic here, and he felt disposed
to regard the thing in the light of some serious optical illusion, when,
on closer inspection, he discovered Waller's mouth drawn altogether
beyond the circle of his countenance, a foot or so above his head, on
the stem of the tree against which he leaned. This changed the current
of his thoughts and led him to believe that he must be dreaming, under
which impression he fell back and went to sleep.

Of course, Bertram recollected nothing after that; but when Gibault
awoke next morning, he found him lying on his back, with his feet in the
ashes of the extinct fire, his tall brigandish wide-awake perfectly flat
beneath his shoulders, and his sketch-book lying open across his face.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

A CACHE DISCOVERED--BERTRAM BECOMES VALOROUS--FAILURE FOLLOWS, AND A
BRIEF SKIRMISH, FLIGHT, AND SEPARATION ARE THE RESULTS.

The sun was high, scattering the gol