They pulled toward the eastern shore, in order that the river might be between them and the Spaniards during the night and soon reached a grove which stood many feet deep in the water.  As they passed under the shelter of the boughs they took another long look toward the spire of smoke.  Henry, who had the keenest eyes of all, was able to make out the dim outline of boats tied to the bank, and any lingering doubt that the Spaniards might not be there was dispelled.

“When they start in the morning we’ll start, too,” said Henry.

Then they pushed their boat further back into the grove.  Night was coming fast.  The sun sank in the bosom of the river, the water turned from yellow to red and then to black, and the earth lay in darkness.

“I think we’d better tie up here and eat cold food,” said Henry.

“An’ then sleep,” said Shif’less Sol.  “That wuz a mighty comf’table Spanish blanket I had last night an’, Jim Hart, I want to tell you that if you move ‘roun’ to-night, while you’re watchin’, please step awful easy, an’ be keerful not to wake me ’cause I’m a light sleeper.  I don’t like to be waked up either early or late in the night.  Tain’t good fur the health.  Makes a feller grow old afore his time.”

“Sol,” said Henry, who was captain by fitness and universal consent, “you’ll take the watch until about one o’clock in the morning and then Paul will relieve you.”

Jim Hart doubled up his long form with silent laughter, and smote his knee violently with the palm of his right hand.

“Oh, yes, Sol Hyde,” he said, “I’ll step lightly, that is, ef I happen to be walkin’ ‘roun’ in my sleep, an’ I’ll take care not to wake you too suddenly, Sol Hyde.  I wouldn’t do it for anything.  I don’t want to stunt your growth, an’ you already sech a feeble, delicate sort o’ creetur, not able to take nourishment ‘ceptin’ from a spoon.”

“Thar ain’t no reward in this world fur a good man,” said the shiftless one in a resigned tone.

They ate quickly, and, as usual, those who did not have to watch wrapped themselves in their blankets and with equal quickness fell asleep.  Shif’less Sol took his place in the prow of the boat, and his attitude was much like that of Tom Ross the night before, only lazier and more graceful.  Sol was a fine figure of a young man, drooped in a luxurious and reclining attitude, his shoulder against the side of the boat, and a roll of two blankets against his back.  His eyes were half closed, and a stray observer, had there been any, might have thought that he was either asleep or dreaming.

But the shiftless one, fit son of the wilderness, was never more awake in his life.  The eyes, looking from under the lowered lids, pierced the forest like those of a cat.  He saw and noted every tree trunk within the range of human vision, and no piece of floating debris on the surface of the flooded river escaped his attention.  His sharp ears heard, too, every sound in the grove, the rustle of a stray breeze through the new leaves, or the splash of a fish, as it leaped from the water and sank back again.