of song and flew up into the crevices of the
green roof. He felt that a serenade had been given to him, one that few
human kings ever enjoyed. The little flying people of the forest had
united to do him honor, and he was pleased, hugely pleased.

They were hidden from him now in the green leaves, but where the sky was
clear he saw a sudden, dark shadow against the blue. He sprang up in an
instant and raised his rifle. But it was too late for the eagle to stop.
The heavy figure with the tearing beak and claws swooped downward, and
there was silence and terror among the green leaves. But before the
eagle could clutch or rend, Henry's rifle spoke with unerring aim, and
the body fell to the ground dead.

He was sorry. He did not like his morning party to be broken up in such
a manner, and for his guests to be disturbed and frightened. Nor was it
wise to fire his rifle in that neighborhood. But he had acted on an
impulse that he did not regret. He looked at the beak and claws of the
dead eagle and he was glad that he had shot him. The fierce bird had
broken up his forest idyl, and knowing that he could stay no longer he
set off at a great pace, again curving about in a course that led him
somewhat toward the house in the cliff.

He crossed several trails and he became rather anxious. Doubtless they
were made by hunters, because the Indians while they remained at the
great camp would eat prodigiously, and bands would be continually
searching the forest for buffalo and deer. It was from these that the
chief danger came. He suspected also that their proximity had compelled
Shif'less Sol and the others to keep close within their little shelter.
He doubted whether he could reach them that day.

The need of rest made itself felt at last, and, hiding his trail, he
crept into another small but very dense thicket. He felt that he was
within a lair and his kinship with bird and beast was renewed. No wolf
or bear could lie snugger in its den than he.

He put his rifle by his side, where he could reach it in a second, and
was soon asleep. A prowling bear came into the far edge of the thicket,
sniffed the man-smell and went away, not greatly alarmed, but feeling
that it was better, in case of doubt, to avoid the cause of the doubt.
Two Indians, carrying the cloven body of a deer, passed within three
hundred yards of the sleeping youth, but they saw no trail and went on
to the camp with the spoils of the hunt.

Henry slept lightly,