heard a sound which was not a part of the morning, and while it
might be made by a wild animal, then again it might be caused by wilder
man. He thanked his wary soul, when, looking above the tops of the
grass, he saw two warriors, Shawnees by their paint, emerge from the
woods and walk northward, to be followed presently by a full score more,
Braxton Wyatt himself at their head.

And so the band had come out of the south, instead of the north!
Doubtless they had circled about before approaching, in order to make
the surprise complete, and the trigger drew the finger of the shiftless
one like a magnet, as he looked at the renegade, the most ruthless
hunter among those who hunted the five. Although the temptation to do so
was strong, Shif'less Sol did not fire, knowing that his bullet would
draw the attack of the band upon his comrades and himself. Instead, he
followed them cautiously about half a mile.

He was confirmed in his opinion--in truth, little short of certainty in
the first instance--that they were marching against the hollow, and its
supposed inmates, as presently they began to advance with extreme care,
kneeling down in the undergrowth and sending out flankers. Shif'less Sol
laughed. It was a low laugh, but deep, and full of unction. He knew that
the farther march of Wyatt and his warriors would be very slow, having
in mind the deadly rifles of the five, the muzzles of which they would
feel sure were projecting from the mouth of the rocky retreat. It was
likely that the entire morning would be spent in an enveloping movement,
dusky figures creeping forward inch by inch in a semi-circle, and then
nothing would be inside the semi-circle.

Shif'less Sol laughed to himself again, and with the same deep and
heartfelt unction. Then he turned and went back to his comrades, who yet
slept soundly in the brake. The cane was so dense that they lay in the
dimness of the shadows, and there was no disturbing light upon their
eyes to awaken them. Shif'less Sol contemplated them with satisfaction,
and then he sat down silently near them. He saw no reason to awaken
them. Braxton Wyatt was now formally arranging the siege of the rocky
refuge and its vanished defenders, and he would not interrupt him for
worlds in that congenial task. For the third time he laughed to himself
with depth and unction.

The sun rose higher in a sky that arched in its perfect blue over a day
of dazzling beauty. The last drop of rain on leaf or g