“The debt of obligation and forgiveness is all upon the other side, as you will some day know, Dick, my lad,” said I, hovering, as a coward always will, upon the innuendo-edge of the confession he will never make.

He mistook the pointing of this protest, as he was bound to.

“Never say that, Jack.  ’Twould be a dog-in-the-manger trick in me to blame you for loving her.  And since you speak of debts, I do protest I owe you somewhat, too.  With so fair a chance to cut a clean swath in that fair-weather month at Appleby Hundred, another man would have left me scant gleanings in the field, I’ll be bound; whereas—­”

“Damn you!” I broke in roughly, “will you never have done and go to sleep?” And so, taking surly harshness for a mask when my heart was nigh bursting with shame and grief, I turned my back and cut him off.

XXIV

HOW WE FOUND THE SUNKEN VALLEY

Looking back upon the hazards and chance-takings of our adventure in the wilderness, I recall no more promising risk than that we ran by sleeping unsentried within rifle-shot, for aught we knew, of the camp of the enemy.

But touching this, ’tis only on the mimic stage of the romances that the players rise to the plane of superhuman sagacity and angel-wit, never faltering in their lines nor betraying by slip or tongue-trip their kinship with common humankind.  Being mere mortals we were not so endowed; we were but four outwearied men, well spent in the long chase, with never a leg among us fit to pace a sentry beat nor a decent wakeful eye to keep it company.  So, as I have said, we took the risk and slept; would have slept as soundly, I dare say, had the risk been twice as great.

We were astir at the earliest graying of the dawn, Richard and I, and were the laggards of the company at that, since the old hunter was already out and away, and the Indian had kindled a fire and was grinding more of the parched corn for the morning meal.  Dick sat up in his leaf litter, yawning like a sleepy giant.

“Lord, Jack,” said he; “if ever we win out of this coil with a full day to spare, I mean to sleep the clock hands twice around at a stretch, I promise you.  ’Twas but a catch, this cat-nap; no more than enough to leave a bad taste in the mouth.”

“Aye; but the taste may be washed out,” said I.  “I am for a dip in the river; what say you?”

He took me at the word, and we had an eye-opening plunge in the spring-cold flood of the swift little river at the mouth of our ravine.  ’Twas most marvelous refreshing; and with appetites sharp set and whetted by the stripping and plunging we were back at the fire in time to give good day to Ephraim Yeates, at that moment returned with the hindquarters of a fine yearling buck, fresh-killed, across his shoulders.

Seeing the deer’s meat, we would think the old hunter’s thrift of the dawn sufficiently accounted for; but when the cuts were a-broil, we were made to know that the buck was merely a lucky incident in the early morning scouting.