he fire's rim, and he could tell by
the color of the waters through what kind of soil it had come.

Paul sat down near him, and began to talk of home. Henry smiled upon him
indulgently; his old relation of protector to the younger boy had grown
stronger during this trip; in the forest he was his comrade's superior
by far, and Paul willingly admitted it; in such matters he sought no
rivalry with his friend.

"I wonder what they are doing way down there?" said Paul, waving his
hand toward the southeast. "Just think of it, Henry! they are only one
little spot in the wilderness, and we are only another little spot way
up here! In all the hundreds of miles between, there may not be another
white face!"

"It is likely true, but what of it?" replied Henry. "The bigger the
wilderness the more room in it for us to roam in. I would rather have
great forests than great towns."

He turned lazily and luxuriously on his side, and, gazing into the red
coals, began to see there visions of other forests and vast plains, with
himself wandering on among the trees and over the swells. His comrades
said nothing more because it was comfortable in their little camp, and
the peace of the wilds was over them all. The night was cold, but the
circling wall of trees sheltered the opening, and the fire in the center
radiated a grateful heat in which they basked. The scholar, Mr.
Pennypacker, rested his face upon his hands, and he, too, was dreaming
as he stared into the blaze. Paul, his blanket wrapped around him and
his head pillowed upon soft boughs, was asleep already. Ross and Sol
dozed.

But Henry neither slept nor wished to do so. His gaze shifted from the
red coals to the silver disk of the sky. The world seemed to him very
beautiful and very intimate. These illimitable expanses of forest
conveyed to him no sense of either awe or fear. He was at home. He had
become for the time a being of the night, piercing the darkness with the
eyes of a wild creature, and hearkening to the familiar voices around
him that spoke to him and to him alone. Never was sleep farther from
him. The shifting firelight in its flickering play fell upon his face
and revealed it in all its clear young boyish strength, the firm neck,
the masterful chin, the calm, resolute eyes set wide apart, the lean
big-boned fingers, lying motionless across his knees.

Mr. Pennypacker began to nod, then he, too, wrapped himself in his
blanket, lay back and soon fell fast asleep