ve heard our calls," said Henry, "and if so, they'll
come to look into the cause of them. Suppose we go on four or five miles
and then sleep, all except one, who will watch."

"The right thing to do," said Tom Ross briefly, and they proceeded at
once, Tom leading the way, while Henry and Paul, who followed close
behind, talked in low voices.

A long, lonesome sound came from the north, and then was repeated three
or four times. Henry laughed.

"That's real," he said. "I'd wager anything that if we followed that
sound we'd find a big owl, sitting on a limb, and calling to some friend
of his."

"You ain't mistook," said Tom Ross sententiously.

As they walked very fast, it did not take them long to cover the four or
five miles that they wished, and they found a comfortable, well-hidden
place in a ravine. The darkness also had increased considerably, which
was good for their purpose, as they were hunting for nobody, and wished
nobody to find them.

All save Tom Ross lay down among the bushes and quickly fell asleep. Tom
found an easy seat and watched.

CHAPTER X

THE GREAT BORDERER

Tom Ross watched until about an hour after midnight, when he awoke
Henry, who would keep guard until day.

"Heard anything?" asked the boy.

"Nuthin'" replied Tom with his usual brevity, as he stretched his long
figure upon the ground. In a minute he was fast asleep. Henry looked
down at the recumbent forms of his comrades, darker shadows in the dusk,
and once more he felt that thrill of deep and intense satisfaction. The
five were reunited, and, having triumphed so often, he believed them to
be equal to any new issue.

Henry sat in a comfortable position on the dead leaves of last year,
with his back against the stump of a tree blown down by some hurricane,
his rifle across his knees. He did not move for a long time, exercising
that faculty of keeping himself relaxed and perfectly still, but he
never ceased to watch and listen.

About half way between midnight and morning, he heard the hoot of the
owl and also the long, whining cry of the wolf. He did not stir, but he
knew that hoot of owl and whine of wolf alike came from Indian throats.
At this hour of the night the red men were signaling to each other. It
might be the Wyandots still in pursuit of the escaped prisoner, or, more
likely, it was the vanguard of the hosts converging on Tuentahahewaghta
(the landing place opposite the mouth of the Licking, the site of
Ci