he third circle he made out a
dim, dark thread against that sheet of blue steel. It was the light of a
camp fire, and that camp fire must belong to an enemy. It was not likely
that anybody else would be sending forth such a signal in this wintry
wilderness.

Henry judged that the fire was several miles away, and apparently in a
small valley hemmed in by hills of moderate height. He made up his mind
that the band of Braxton Wyatt was there, and he intended to make a
thorough scout about it. He advanced until the smoke line became much
thicker and broader, and then he stopped in the densest clump of bushes
that he could find. He meant to remain there until darkness came,
because, with all foliage gone from the forest, it would be impossible
to examine the hostile camp by day. The bushes, despite the lack of
leaves, were so dense that they hid him well, and, breaking through the
crust of ice, he dug a hole. Then, having taken off his snowshoes and
wrapped his blanket about his body, he thrust himself into the hole
exactly like a rabbit in its burrow. He laid his shoes on the crust of
ice beside him. Of course, if found there by a large party of warriors
on snowshoes he would have no chance to flee, but he was willing to take
what seemed to him a small risk. The dark would not be long in coming,
and it was snug and warm in the hole. As he sat, his head rose just
above the surrounding ice, but his rifle barrel rose much higher. He ate
a little venison for supper, and the weariness in the ankles that comes
from long traveling on snowshoes disappeared.

He could not see outside the bushes, but he listened with those
uncommonly keen ears of his. No sound at all came. There was not even
a wind to rustle the bare boughs. The sun hung a huge red globe in the
west, and all that side of the earth was tinged with a red glare, wintry
and cold despite its redness. Then, as the earth turned, the sun was
lost behind it, and the cold dark came.

Henry found it so comfortable in his burrow that all his muscles were
soothed, and he grew sleepy. It would have been very pleasant to doze
there, but he brought himself round with an effort of the will, and
became as wide awake as ever. He was eager to be off on his expedition,
but he knew how much depended on waiting, and he waited. One hour, two
hours, three hours, four hours, still and dark, passed in the forest
before he roused himself from his covert. Then, warm, strong, and
tempered like