"Them warriors had shotguns," said Shif'less Sol, "an' they were out huntin' fur some big war party, most likely, one o' them that's watchin'

the fort. But they ain't dreamin' that fellers like you and me are aroun' here, Henry."

The night dropped down like a great black mask over the face of the world, and Shif'less Sol announced that he was going to cook his turkey.

"I'm tired o' fish," he said, "fish fur breakfast, fish fur dinner, an'

fish fur supper. Ef it keeps on this way, I'll soon be covered with scales, my blood will be cold, an' I'll die ef I'm left five minutes on dry land. Don't say a word, Henry, I'm goin' to cook that turkey ef I lose my scalp."

Henry did not say anything. He thought there was little danger, the night was so dark, and Sol broiled his bird to a turn over smothered coals. When it was done he took it up by the leg and held it out admiringly.

"I don't believe Jim Hart hisself could beat that," he said, "an' Jim is sh.o.r.ely a pow'ful good cook, I guess about the best the world has ever seed. Don't you think, Henry, that ef Jim Hart had been thar to cook wild turkey an' venison an' buffler meat for all them old Romans an'

Egyptians, an' sech like, with the cur'ous appet.i.tes, always lookin' fur new dishes, they'd have rested satisfied, an' wouldn't hev decayed down to nothin'? 'Pears strange to me why they'd keep on lookin' roun' fur hummin' bird tongues an' them other queer things when they could have had nice cow buffler steak every day o' thar lives."

The two ate the turkey between them, and Shif'less Sol, thumping his chest, said:

"Now, let us set forth. It is Solomon Hyde hisself ag'in, an' he feels fit fur any task."

They started about ten o'clock, curved around the lake, and traveled in a general northwesterly course. Henry went slowly at first, but when he noticed that Shif'less Sol was breathing easily and regularly, he increased the pace somewhat.

"What's your opinion about the place where we'll find Tom, if we find him at all?" he asked.

"Ef we find Tom Ross, it'll be mighty close to the place whar we left him. Tom never wastes any words, an' he ain't goin' to waste any steps, either. Are you sh.o.r.e we come along this way, Henry? I wuz runnin' so pow'ful fast I only hit the tops o' the hills ez I pa.s.sed."

"Yes, this is the place," said Henry, looking carefully at hills, gullies, rocks, and trees, "and it was certainly somewhere near here that Tom was forced to turn aside."

"Then we'll find him close by, livin' or dead," said Shif'less Sol succinctly.

"But how to do it?" said Henry.

"Yes, how?" said Sol.

They began a careful search, radiating continually in a wider circle, but the night that hid them from the warriors also hid all signs of Tom Ross.

"Tom's the kind o' feller who wouldn't make the least bit o' noise,"

said Shif'less Sol, "an' I'm thinkin' we've got to make a noise ourselves, an' let him hear it."

"What kind of a noise?"

"We might try our old signal, the call that we've so often made to one another."

"Yes," said Henry, "that is what we must do."

CHAPTER XVII

PICKING UP THE STRANDS

Henry sat down in the underbrush, and Shif'less Sol sat down close to him. Their figures were hidden by the darkness and the bushes.

"Do your best, Henry," said the shiftless one.

Henry opened his mouth and emitted a long, mournful cry, so like that of the owl that Shif'less Sol, at a little distance, could not have told the difference. After a silence of a few seconds he repeated the cry, to show that they were two.

"Don't see why you can't let a tired and sick man sleep, 'specially when he needs it so bad," said a voice so near them that both started up in astonishment.

It was the voice of Tom Ross, as they knew when the very first words were uttered, and they saw him standing erect in a little clump of trees and looking reproachfully at them. It was night, and Tom was fifty yards away, but they would have known his figure and att.i.tude anywhere. They rushed to him, each seized a hand and shook it.

"Don't shake too hard," said Tom. "Jest gittin' well uv a pow'ful bad headache."

They saw that a rude bandage encircled his head, and was tied tightly.

"Injun bullet hit my skull," said Tom briefly. "Couldn't git in, so it went 'round an' come out on the other side. Made my head ache most a week. Been campin' here till you'd come."

"Where have you been camping?" asked Henry.

"Over thar in the bushes," replied Tom, and he led the way to a very thick clump at the side of a huge, up-thrust root of an oak. Sheltered partly by the bushes and partly by the big root had been the lair of some wild animal that Tom had dispossessed. But he had relined it first with dry leaves and little boughs, turning it into a man's nest.

"Found it the night I dropped out," said Tom. "Couldn't be partickler then. Had to lay down somewhar. Remember, after I'd been here an hour or two, some big yeller animal with yellerish-green eyes come starin' in at me through the bushes, angry and reproachful-like. Said to me plain as day: 'You've took my house. Git out.' Felt like a robber, I did, slippin' into another man's bed while he wuz away, an' takin' up all the room. But I jest had to hold on, me feelin' pow'ful bad. I p'inted my rifle at him, looked down the sights and said: 'Git.' He must have knowed what a rifle meant, 'cause git he did, an' he ain't ever come back to claim his mansion. Then, jest havin' strength enough left to bind up my head, I fell over into a sleep, an' I reckon I slep' 'bout three days an' three nights, 'cause I ain't got any idea how much time hez pa.s.sed sence I left you that night, Henry.

"But I felt better after my long sleep, though still weak an' wobbly.

I'd hev made myself some herb tea, but I wuz beginnin' to git tre-men-jeous-ly hungry. Managed to watch at a spring not far from here until a deer came down to drink one night, an' I shot him. Been livin'

on deer meat since then, an' waitin' fur my headache to go away.

Expected you an' Sol or one uv you would come fur me."

Tom stopped abruptly and took a mighty breath. He did not make so long a speech more than once a year, and he felt mentally exhausted.

"Well, we've found you, Tom," said Henry joyfully.

"Ef you hadn't come, I'd have started myself in a day or two to find _you_," said Ross.

"I don't wonder that Injun bullet turned aside, when it run ag'in Tom Ross' skull," said the shiftless one. "That sh.o.r.ely wuz a smart bullet.

It knowed it wuzn't worth while to beat its head ag'in a rock."

"Don't be impydent, Sol," said Tom with a quiet chuckle. "Now that we three are together ag'in, I s'pose the next thing fur us to do is to track Jim Hart to his hidin' place."

"That comes next," said Henry.

It did not occur to any of the three that Long Jim might have been slain. Their belief in their own skill, endurance, and good fortune, was so great that they did not reckon on anything more than a wound, fever, and exhaustion.

"I believe we'd better stop here to-night," said Shif'less Sol. "Tom can widen his den, and all three of us kin sleep in it."

Henry and Tom agreed. Silent Tom, although he said little, was greatly rejoiced over the coming of his comrades, and he brought from the fork of a tree his store of deer meat, of which they ate. Then, in accord with the shiftless one's suggestion, they widened the den, and the three slept there, turns being taken at the watch.

Henry had the last turn, and it was about two o'clock in the morning when he was awakened for it. Shif'less Sol, who had awakened him, instantly fell asleep, and Henry sat at the edge of the lair, his rifle across his knees, and his eyes turned up to the great stars, which were twinkling in a magnificent blue sky.

Henry had imbibed much of the Indian lore and belief. It was inevitable where human beings were so few, and the skies and the forest were so immense, that he should feel the greatness of nature and draw his symbols from it. He wondered in a vague sort of way on which of the bright stars Manitou dwelt, and if on all of them there were hunting grounds like those in which he and his comrades roved.