ime from the thicket.
The very silence was oppressive. There was no wind, not even a stray
puff, and the bushes never rustled. Henry longed for a noise of some
kind to break that terrible, oppressive silence. What he really wished
to hear was the soft crunch of Long Jim's moccasins on the grass and
leaves.

The night passed, the day came, and Henry awakened his comrades. Long
Jim was still missing and their alarm was justified. Whatever trail lie
might have struck, he would have returned in the night unless something
had happened to him. Henry had vague theories, but nothing definite, and
he kept them to himself. Yet they must make a change in their plans. To
go on and leave Long Jim to whatever fate might be his was unthinkable.
No task could interfere with the duty of the five to one another.

"We are in one of the most dangerous of all the Indian countries," said
Henry. "We are on the fringe of the region over which the Six Nations
roam, and we know that Timmendiquas and a band of the Wyandots are here
also. Perhaps Miamis and Shawnees have come, too."

"We've got to find Long Jim," said Silent Tom briefly.

They went about their task in five minutes. Breakfast consisted of cold
venison and a drink from a brook. Then they began to search the forest.
They felt sure that such woodsmen as they, with the daylight to help
them, would find some trace of Long Jim, but they saw none at all,
although they constantly widened their circle, and again tried all their
signals. Half the forenoon passed in the vain search, and then they held
a council.

"I think we'd better scatter," said Shif'less Sol, "an' meet here again
when the sun marks noon."

It was agreed, and they took careful note of the place, a little hill
crowned with a thick cluster of black oaks, a landmark easy to remember.
Henry turned toward the south, and the forest was so dense that in two
minutes all his comrades were lost to sight. He went several miles,
and his search was most rigid. He was amazed to find that the sense of
mystery and danger that he attributed to the darkness of the night did
not disappear wholly in the bright daylight. His spirit, usually so
optimistic, was oppressed by it, and he had no belief that they would
find Long Jim.

At the set time he returned to the little hill crowned with the black
oaks, and as he approached it from one side he saw Shif'less Sol coming
from another. The shiftless one walked despondently. His gait was loo