His words were rough, but his tone was kindly.  Paul, all his pride aroused, made a great effort and stood straight again.  Slowly the world about him swam back, into its proper position.

“Who said I wasn’t standing up?” he asked.

“Nobody,” replied Shif’less Sol; “but if I’d been through what I reckon you’ve been through, I’d fall flop on the ground, an’ Jim Hart would have to come an’ feed me or I’d starve to death right before his eyes.”

Paul laughed, and then he felt more like himself.  Ross, too, had been regarding him with sympathy, but he glanced inquiringly at Henry.

“You’ve had it hot an’ hard?” he said.

“Yes,” replied the boy laconically; “we’ve run against Shawnees, and about everything that could has happened to us.”

“Then it’s fire, warmth, meat, rest, an’ sleep for Paul right away,” said Ross.

Henry nodded.

Paul was looking at the fire, which seemed to him the most glorious one ever built, and he did not notice anything more until he was lying beside it, stretched on a blanket, and eating the very piece of tender buffalo meat that Shif’less Sol had coveted for himself.  Despite his relaxed and half-dreamy condition, his imagination leaped up at once to magnificent heights.  All danger and hardship were gone.  He was surrounded by a ring of dauntless friends, and the fire glowed splendidly.

Shif’less Sol sat down near him, and regarded him with the deepest sympathy, mingled with a certain amount of envy.

“Paul,” he said, “I wish I wuz in your place for an hour or two.  They’ve jest got to wait on you.  Nobody ever believes me when I say I’m sick, though I’m took pow’ful bad sometimes, an’ they don’t care whether I’m tired or not.  Now, Paul, take all the advantages o’ your position.  Don’t you reach your hand for a thing.  Make ’em bring it to you.  Ef I can’t get waited on myself, I like to see another fellow waited on.  Here, Saplin’, some more o’ that buffalo steak for Paul, who is mighty hungry.”

Saplin’ cast a look of scorn upon Shif’less Sol, but he brought the steak, and Paul ate again, for he was voraciously hungry.  But one cannot eat always, and by and by he had enough.  Then his restful, dreamy feeling grew.  He saw Henry and the men talking, but he either did not hear what they said or he was not interested.  Soon the whole world faded out, and he slept soundly.  And as he slept the touch of fever left him.  Shif’less Sol looked down at him kindly.

“I’m tired, too,” he said, “but I suppose if I wuz to go to sleep some o’ you ’ud be mean enough to shove me in the side with his foot.”

“I’d try to be the first,” said Jim Hart, “an’ I’d shove pow’ful hard.”

“It ’ud be jest like you,” said Shif’less Sol, “but I suppose you can’t any more help bein’ mean, Jim, than I can help bein’ tired.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders and returned to his cooking, his tall, lean form bent over like a hoop.  Paul slept peacefully on the blanket, but the others talked much and earnestly.  Henry, as he ate of the buffalo meat, told them all that had happened to him and Paul in that brief period which yet looked so long.  That the band would pick up the trail, daylight now come, and follow on, he did not doubt.  There he stopped, and left the conclusion to the others.  Shif’less Sol was the first to speak.