'
thar so long. A tired man likes to rest, but thar ain't no sense in
turnin' hisself into a stone image."

Sol seemed so careless and easy that Paul drew an inference from his
manner.

"You are not expecting anything more from them just now, Sol?"

His nod toward the forest indicated the "them."

"No, not yet a while," replied Shif'less Sol. "I guess they'll lay by
until night."

His face showed some apprehension as he spoke of night, but it was gone
quickly. Shif'less Sol was not a man who took troubles to heart, else he
never would have earned his name.

"We'll jest chaw a little more venison, Paul," he said. "I know you think
a drink o' water would go pow'ful well with it, an' so do I; but since it
ain't to be had, we'll jest do without it and say no more."

The remainder of the day passed undisturbed, but as the first wan shade of
twilight appeared the men began to look closely to their arms. Horns were
held up to the light in order that the powder line might show, bullets
were counted, and flints examined. Paul knew what it all meant. The
Shawnees would attack in the darkness, and there would be all the
confusion of a midnight battle, when one might not be able to tell friend
from friend nor foe from foe. The sense of weirdness and awe overcame him
again. They were but the tiniest of atoms in that vast wilderness, which
would be just the same to-morrow and the next day, no matter who won.

But Paul had in him the stuff of which heroes are made, and his strong
will brought his mind back to present needs. He, too, measured his powder
and counted his bullets, while he strove also to forget the hot thirst
that tormented him.

The sun sank in the forest, the wan twilight deepened into shadow, and the
shadow darkened into night. The trees where the Shawnees lay hidden were
gone in the dusk, which hung so close that Paul could see but the nearest
of his comrades. Only the murmur of night insects and the faint rustle of
leaves came to his ears. The feeling of awe returned, and his blood grew
chill. Then it was a relief to him to know that he had a comrade in this
sensation.

"Ef an owl would only hoot once or twice now," whispered Shif'less Sol, "I
think I'd jump right out o' my huntin' shirt."

Paul laughed and felt better.

"Now, Paul," continued Shif'less Sol, very gravely this time, "lemme give
you a piece o' mighty good advice. When the muss comes on, don't move
about much. Lay close. Stick to me an' H