Part 17 (1/2)

”Heard anything?” asked the boy.

”Nuthin'” replied Tom with his usual brevity, as he stretched his long figure upon the ground. In a minute he was fast asleep. Henry looked down at the rec.u.mbent forms of his comrades, darker shadows in the dusk, and once more he felt that thrill of deep and intense satisfaction. The five were reunited, and, having triumphed so often, he believed them to be equal to any new issue.

Henry sat in a comfortable position on the dead leaves of last year, with his back against the stump of a tree blown down by some hurricane, his rifle across his knees. He did not move for a long time, exercising that faculty of keeping himself relaxed and perfectly still, but he never ceased to watch and listen.

About half way between midnight and morning, he heard the hoot of the owl and also the long, whining cry of the wolf. He did not stir, but he knew that hoot of owl and whine of wolf alike came from Indian throats.

At this hour of the night the red men were signaling to each other. It might be the Wyandots still in pursuit of the escaped prisoner, or, more likely, it was the vanguard of the hosts converging on Tuentahahewaghta (the landing place opposite the mouth of the Licking, the site of Cincinnati).

But Henry felt no apprehension. The night was dark. No one could follow a trail at such a time. All the five were accomplished borderers. They could slip through any ring that might be made, whether by accident or purpose, around them. So he remained perfectly still, his muscles relaxed, his mind the abode of peace. Cry of owl and wolf came much nearer, but he was not disturbed. Once he rose, crept a hundred yards through the thicket, and saw a band of fifty Miamis in the most vivid of war paint pa.s.s by, but he was yet calm and sure, and when the last Miami had disappeared in the darkness, he returned to his comrades, who had neither moved nor wakened.

Dawn came in one great blazing shaft of sunlight, and the four awoke.

Henry told all that he had seen and heard.

”I'm thinkin' that the tribes are all about us,” said s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

”Sh.o.r.ely,” said Tom Ross.

”An' we don't want to fight so many,” said Long Jim.

”An' that bein' the case,” said s.h.i.+f'less Sol, ”I'm hopin' that the rest o' you will agree to our layin' quiet here in the thicket all day.

Besides, sech a long rest would be a kindness to me, a pow'ful lazy man.”

”It's the wisest thing to do,” said Henry. ”Even by daylight nothing but chance would cause so faint a trail as ours to be found.”

It was settled. They lay there all day, and n.o.body grew restless except Paul. He found it hard to pa.s.s so much time in inaction, and now and then he suggested to the others that they move on, taking all risks, but they merely rallied him on his impatience.

”Paul,” said Long Jim, ”thar is one thing that you kin learn from Sol Hyde, an' that is how to be lazy. Uv course, Sol is lazy all the time, but it's a good thing to be lazy once in a while, ef you pick the right day.”

”You don't often tell the truth, Saplin',” said s.h.i.+f'less Sol, ”but you're tellin' it now. Paul, thar bein' nuthin' to do, I'm goin' to lay down ag'in an' go to sleep.”

He stretched himself upon a bed of leaves that he had sc.r.a.ped up for himself. His manner expressed the greatest sense of luxury, but suddenly he sat up, his face showing anger.

”What's the matter, Sol?” asked Paul in surprise.

The s.h.i.+ftless one put his hand in his improvised bed and held up an oak leaf. The leaf had been doubled under him.

”Look at that,” he said, ”an' then you won't have the face to ask me why I wuz oncomf'table. Remember the tale you told us, Paul, about some old Greeks who got so fas-tee-ge-ous one o' 'em couldn't sleep 'cause a rose leaf was doubled under him. That's me, Sol Hyde, all over ag'in. I'm a pow'ful partickler person, with a delicate rearin' an' the instincts o'

luxury. How do you expect me to sleep with a thing like that pushed up in the small o' my back. Git out!”

As he said 'Git out,' he threw the leaf from him, lay down again on his woodland couch, and in two minutes was really and peacefully asleep.

”He is sh.o.r.ely won'erful,” said Long Jim admiringly. ”Think I'll try that myself.”

He was somewhat longer than the s.h.i.+ftless one in achieving the task, but in ten minutes he, too, slept. Paul was at last able to do so in the afternoon, when the sun grew warm, and at the coming of the night they prepared to depart.

They traveled a full eight hours, by the stars and the moon, through a country covered with dense forest. Twice they saw distant lights, once to the south and once to the east, and they knew that they were the camp fires of Indians, who feared no enemy here. But when dawn came there was no sign of hostile fire or smoke, and they believed that they were now well in advance of the Indian parties. They shot two wild turkeys from a flock that was ”gobbling” in the tall trees, announcing the coming of the day, and cooked them at a fire that they built by the side of a brook. After breakfast Henry and Tom Ross went forward a little to spy out the land, and a half mile further on by the side of the brook they saw two or three faint prints made by the human foot. They examined them long and carefully.

”Made by white men,” said Henry at last.

”Sh.o.r.ely,” said Tom Ross.