proud o' bein' a wolf
sometimes, an' I feel like one jest now."

"Go back then some distance," said Henry. "When the boys come up you
must meet 'em and not let 'em run into any ambush."

The shiftless one glided away toward the rear, and Henry, lying almost
flat on the grass and watching the thickets in front of him so intensely
that no warrior could have crept out of them unseen, waited. At the end
of five minutes he heard behind him a note, low at first, but swelling
gradually so high that it pierced the sky and filled the forest. It was
fierce, prolonged, seeming to come from the throat of a monster wolf,
and, as it died away, a similar cry came from a point far back in the
forest. The wolf near by howled again, and the wolf deep in the forest
replied in like fashion. The signal was complete, and Henry knew that
Paul, Silent Tom and Long Jim would come fast to help.

There was a stirring in the thicket before him, evidently prompted by
the signals, and another vain bullet crashed through the bushes. Henry
fired once more at the flash, but he could not tell whether or not he
had hit anything, although it was sufficient to hold the warriors in the
bush. Evidently they did not consider themselves strong enough for a
rush, and again he waited patiently, judging that the three would arrive
in twenty minutes at the furthest.

They came several minutes within the allotted time. He heard soft
rustlings behind him, and then the five were reunited and ready for
action.

"Sol, you creep around on the right flank, and Tom, you take the left,"
whispered the young general. "They're not in numbers and I think we can
soon rout 'em without loss to ourselves."

The flanking movement was carried out perfectly. Shif'less Sol and
Silent Tom opened fire on the right and on the left at the same time,
and the other three, sending in bullets from the center, began to shout
the charge, although they did no charging. But it was sufficient. They
saw dusky figures darting away, and then, rising from the bushes the
three divisions of their small army met victoriously upon the field,
abandoned by the enemy in such haste.

They saw red stains, and then a dark form almost hidden in the grass, a
powerful warrior, painted hideously and dead an hour. Henry looked down
at him thoughtfully. The retreating warriors had taken away his weapons,
but his paint bag and the little charms against evil spirits remained,
tied to his belt. It was the paint