Henry looked at him and laughed.

“The sun!” he said.  “Well, Paul, it’s the first time I ever knew the sun to rise in the west.”

“The sun’s likely to do anything out here where we are,” rejoined Paul.

“That’s a fire, a camp fire, Paul,” said Henry, “and I’m thinking it must be made by white men.”

“White men!  Friends!” exclaimed Paul.  He stood up straight, and his eyes grew brighter.  An hour or two ago it had scarcely seemed possible to him that they should ever see white faces again.

“It’s only my belief,” said Henry.  “We’ve got to make sure.  Now, you wait here, Paul, and I’ll do a little bit of scouting.  Sit down among those bushes there and I’ll be back soon.”

Paul was fully content to do what Henry said.  He found a good place in a thick clump of underbrush, and sank down easily.  He would have been quite willing to lie down, because he was terribly tired and sleepy, but with an effort he held himself to a sitting posture and watched Henry.  He was conscious of a vague admiration as the tall form of his comrade went forward swiftly, making no noise and hiding itself so quickly in the forest that he could not tell where it had gone.

Then Paul was conscious of a great peace, and a heavy tugging at his eyelids.  Never in his life before was he so tired and sleepy.  The last raindrop was gone, and the bushes and grass were drying in the gentle wind.  A fine golden sun was bringing with it a silver dawn, and a pleasant warmth stole all through him.  His head sank back a little more and his elbow found a soft place in the turf.

The boy, with his half-closed eyes and pale face, was not alone as he lay there among the bushes.  Little neighbors came and looked at the newcomer.  A hare gazed solemnly at him for a moment or two, and then hopped solemnly away.  A bluebird flew down to the very tip of a bough, surveyed him at leisure, and then flew off in search of food.  Neither hare nor bird was scared.  Tiny creeping things scuttled through the grass, but the boy did not move, and they scuttled on undisturbed.

Paul was just sinking away into a pleasant unknown land when a shout brought him back to earth.  He sprang to his feet, and there was Henry returning through the forest.

“Friends, Paul!  Old friends!” he cried.  “Up with you and we’ll pay ’em a surprise visit!”

Paul shook his head to clear his thoughts, and followed Henry.  Henry walked swiftly now, not seeming to care whether or not he made noise, and Paul followed him toward the fire, which now rapidly grew larger.

CHAPTER VI

THE BATTLE ON THE HILL

Six men were sitting around a camp fire, and they showed every sign of comfort and cheerfulness.  It was a big fire, a glowing fire, a warm fire, and it took all trace of damp from the rain or cold of the autumn morning.  They were just having breakfast, and their food was buffalo hump, very tender as it came from beneath a huge bed of red-hot embers.