emselves in their blankets and with equal quickness fell asleep.
Shif'less Sol took his place in the prow of the boat, and his attitude was
much like that of Tom Ross the night before, only lazier and more
graceful. Sol was a fine figure of a young man, drooped in a luxurious and
reclining attitude, his shoulder against the side of the boat, and a roll
of two blankets against his back. His eyes were half closed, and a stray
observer, had there been any, might have thought that he was either asleep
or dreaming.

But the shiftless one, fit son of the wilderness, was never more awake in
his life. The eyes, looking from under the lowered lids, pierced the
forest like those of a cat. He saw and noted every tree trunk within the
range of human vision, and no piece of floating debris on the surface of
the flooded river escaped his attention. His sharp ears heard, too, every
sound in the grove, the rustle of a stray breeze through the new leaves,
or the splash of a fish, as it leaped from the water and sank back again.

The hours dragged after one another, one by one, but Shif'less Sol was not
unhappy. He was really quite willing to keep the watch, and, as Tom Ross
had done, he regarded his sleeping comrades with pride, and all the warmth
of good fellowship.

The night was dark, like its predecessor. The moon's rays fell only in
uneven streaks, and revealed a singular scene, a forest standing knee
deep, as it were, in water.

Shif'less Sol presently took one of the blankets and wrapped it around his
shoulders. A cold damp pervaded the atmosphere, and a fog began to rise
from the river. The shiftless one was a cautious man and he knew the
danger of chills and fever. His comrades were already well wrapped, but he
stepped softly over and drew Paul's blanket a little closer around his
neck. Then he resumed his seat, maintaining his silence.

Shif'less Sol did not like the rising of the river fog. It was thick and
cold, it might be unhealthy, and it hid the view. His circle of vision
steadily narrowed. Tree trunks became ghostly, and then were gone. The
water, seen through the fog, had a pallid, unpleasant color. Eye became of
little use, and it was ear upon which the sentinel must depend.

Shif'less Sol judged that it was about midnight, and he became troubled.
The sixth sense, that comes of acute natural perceptions fortified by long
habit, was giving him warning. It seemed to him that he felt the approach
of something. He ra