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’ Henry, an’ then thar ain’t so much chance to git mixed up with them that’s lookin’ fur you here.”

“I’ll remember what you say, Sol,” replied Paul earnestly, as he girded his spirit for action.  He knew that the attack would come very soon, as the Indians would choose the darkest period before the moon rose.  Nor was he wrong.  The battle in the night began only a half hour later.

Paul first saw a pink point appear in the darkness, but he knew that it was the flame from a rifle shot.  It came from a place not far away, to which some Shawnee had crawled; but the hunters paid no attention to it, nor to a second, nor to a third, as all the bullets flew wild.  Paul, forgetting for the moment that those bullets were sent to kill, became engrossed in the spectacle of the fireworks.  He was always wondering where the next spurt of blue or pink flame would break through the darkness, and the popping of the shots formed a not unpleasant sound in the night.