ion of Chillicothe were in joyous mood, but their leader did not
permit them to relax caution a particle. Too often the borderers,
thinking victory won, permitted themselves to fall into disorder, when
their victory was turned into defeat by the shrewd foe. Now the men
spread their blankets far enough away from the woods to be safe from
sharpshooters hidden there. The guard was made of unusual strength, and
gunners were always at the cannon in case of a night attack.

The five were not on duty that night, in view of what they had done
already, and they spread their blankets near the edge of the corn field,
across which they had run at such good speed. The coals still glowed.
Far off they heard the howling of wolves.

"Is there any danger of a night attack?" asked Paul.

"I don't think so," replied Henry. "Of course the Indians have spies in
the woods and they will report that it is impossible to surprise us."

It was a long time before Henry could go to sleep. The great events
through which he had been crowded upon his mind. He had seen the
Iroquois win and then he had seen them destroyed. The western tribes had
won victories too and now a great commander was striking at their very
heart. Their capital lay in ruins, and, unless Timmendiquas could defeat
the white men in battle, when they marched on Piqua, then the western
tribes also would receive a blow from which they could never recover.
Despite himself, he was sorry for Timmendiquas. Nevertheless he was
loyal in every fiber to his own people.

The howling of the wolves came nearer. They would find little for their
teeth among these ruins, but they knew somehow that destruction had been
done, and instinct called them to the place. It was an unpleasant sound
and it made Henry shiver a little. It made him think of what was to come
for the Indians. Even savages, in the fierce winters of the North, would
suffer for lost Chillicothe. Wooden houses and lodges could not be
replaced in a day. While the great beds of coals were still glowing he
fell asleep, but he was up with the others at dawn.

It was one of the most somber days that Henry had ever seen. The heat,
close, heavy and thick, like a mist, endured, but the sun did not shine.
The whole circle of the sky was covered with gray clouds. Everything was
sullen and ugly. Some timbers in the vast ruin of Chillicothe yet burned
and showed red edges, but it would be impossible to conceive of a more
desolate heap. Piles