d martyrs felt, when they were being led to the stake; he
believed he knew now; for he experienced a fierce sense of exultation
with every twinge of pain that walking gave him; but with set teeth he
kept grimly on.

That was a long half hour to the scout. He would never forget it to
his dying day. And when Toby finally, after what seemed an eternity,
announced that they must be very close on the point where in the
moonlight much of the big valley could be seen dimly beyond, Step Hen
mentally thanked his stars again and again.

Presently Toby turned, and looked.

"Here she is!" he remarked; and the boy grunted in reply; for there may
be times when the spirit of thanksgiving is too deep for utterance.

"I see her," Toby remarked almost immediately afterwards.

"Do you mean the fire, Toby?" demanded Step Hen.

"It cain't be anything else, even though they've let it get low. And
now we've a job afore us, to get some blaze started right here. Wood
ain't too plenty round these parts. Let's look for some."

But when Step Hen started after him, the guide made him sit down to
rest, promising to come to him when the fire was good and ready.

"Your part of the work will begin about that time; let me do this fire
makin'," the good-hearted guide insisted; and the boy was only too
willing to sink down.

A short time afterwards, when Toby came to announce that the fire was
in full blast, with plenty of good brands that might be used for
torches; he found poor Step Hen sound asleep, just as he had dropped,
being utterly exhausted. The guide looked down at him with pity. He
had taken a great fancy for the plucky scout; and disliked arousing
him the worst kind; but there was no other way.

Step Hen had to be shaken half a dozen times before he would consent
to open his heavy eyes; then he stared up at Toby, as though for the
moment he could not place things.

"I got the fire started; and there's aplenty of wood handy arter all,
for you to use as torches when you signal the camp!" said the guide,
kindly.

"Oh!" cried Step Hen sitting up, "to be sure; and I really think I
must have been dozing while you were doing all the work, Toby. Give me
a hand, won't you, please; I'm ashamed to say my legs seem so silly
stiff at the knees I just can't straighten 'em out? Wow! to think of
me being such a baby as to feel that little circus this way. I'm real
ashamed, that's what."

"You ain't got no call to be, I promise you, boy," decla