But these stops were only momentary.  Save for them he never ceased his rapid course, and always it led straight toward the south.  When the sun was squarely overhead, pouring down a flood of golden beams, he paused in the shade of a mighty oak, and took food from his belt.  He might have eaten there in silence and obscurity, but once more the shiftless one showed a singular lack of caution and woodcraft.  He drew together dry sticks, ignited a fire with flint and steel, and cooked deer meat over it.  He let the fire burn high, and a thin column of dark smoke rose far up into the blue.  Any savage, roaming the wilderness, might see it, but the shiftless one was reckless.  He let the fire burn on, after his food was cooked, while the column of smoke grew thicker and mounted higher, and ate the savory steaks, lying comfortably between two upthrust roots.  Now and then he uttered a little sigh of satisfaction, because he had travelled far and hard, and he was hungry.  Food meant new strength.

But he was not as reckless as he seemed.  Nothing that passed in the forest within the range of eyesight escaped his notice.  He heard the leaf, when it fell close by, and the light tread of a deer passing.  He remained a full hour between the roots, a long time for one who might have a purpose, and, after he rose, he did not scatter the fire and trample upon the brands after the wilderness custom when one was ready to depart.  The flames had died down, but he let the coals smoulder on, and, hundreds of yards away, he could still see their smoke.  Now, he sought the softest parts of the earth and trod there deliberately, leaving many footprints.  Again he cut little chips from the trees as he passed, but never ceased his swift and silent journey to the south.  The hours fled by, and a dark shade appeared in the east.  It deepened into dusk, and spread steadily toward the zenith.  The sun, a golden ball, sank behind a hill in the west, and then the shiftless one stopped.

He ascended a low hill again, and took a long scrutinizing look around the whole horizon.  But his gaze was not apprehensive.  On the contrary, it was expectant, and his face seemed to show a slight disappointment when the wilderness merely presented its wonted aspect.  Then he built another fire, not choosing a secluded glade, but the top of the hill, the most exposed spot that he could find, and, after he had eaten his supper, he sat beside it, the expectant air still on his face.

Nothing came.  But the shiftless one sat long.  He raked up dead leaves of last year’s winter and made a pillow, against which he reclined luxuriously.  Shif’less Sol was one who drew mental and physical comfort from every favoring circumstance, and the leaves felt very soft to his head and shoulders.  He was not in the least lonesome, although the night had fully come, and heavy darkness lay like a black robe over the forest.  He stretched out his moccasined toes to the fire, closed his eyes for a moment or two, and a dreamy look of satisfaction rested on his face.  It seemed to the shiftless one that he lay in the very lap of luxury, in the very best of worlds.