, and his comrade Paul, just behind. He was full of
thankfulness that he had been allowed to go on this journey. It all
appealed to him, the tale that Paul told of the giant bones and the
great salt spring, the dark woods full of mystery and delightful danger,
and his own place among the trusted band, who were sent on such an
errand. His heart swelled with pride and pleasure and he walked with a
light springy step and with endurance equal to that of any of the men
before him. He looked over his shoulder at Paul, whose face also was
touched with enthusiasm.

"Aren't you glad to be along?" he asked in a whisper.

"Glad as I can be," replied Paul in the same whisper.

Up shot the sun showering golden beams of light upon the forest. The air
grew warmer, but the little band did not cease its rapid pace northward
until noon. Then at a word from Ross all halted at a beautiful glade,
across which ran a little brook of cold water. The horses were tethered
at the edge of the forest, but were allowed to graze on the young grass
which was already beginning to appear, while the men lighted a small
fire of last year's fallen brushwood, at the center of the glade on the
bank of the brook.

"We won't build it high," said Ross, who was captain as well as guide,
"an' then nobody in the forest can see it. There may not be an Indian
south of the Ohio, but the fellow that's never caught is the fellow that
never sticks his head in the trap."

"Sound philosophy! sound philosophy! your logic is irrefutable, Mr.
Ross," said the schoolmaster.

Ross grinned. He did not know what "irrefutable" meant, but he did know
that Mr. Pennypacker intended to compliment him.

Paul and Henry assisted with the fire. In fact they did most of the
work, each wishing to make good his assertion that he would prove of use
on the journey. It was a brief task to gather the wood and then Ross and
Shif'less Sol lighted the fire, which they permitted merely to smolder.
But it gave out ample heat and in a few minutes they cooked over it
their venison and corn bread and coffee which they served in tin cups.
Henry and Paul ate with the ferocious appetite that the march and the
clean air of the wilderness had bred in them, and nobody restricted
them, because the forest was full of game, and such skillful hunters and
riflemen could never lack for a food supply.

Mr. Pennypacker leaned with an air of satisfaction against the upthrust
bough of a fallen oak.

"It's a