On the fifth night after the rescue of Long Jim, Henry and
Shif'less Sol lay in the covert. It was nearly midnight, but the
fires still burned in the Indian camp, warriors were polishing
their weapons, and the women were cutting up or jerking meat.
While they were watching they heard from a point to the north the
sound of a voice rising and failing in a kind of chant.
"Another war party comin'," whispered Shif'less Sol, "an' singin'
about the victories that they're goin' to win."
"But did you notice that voice?" Henry whispered back. " It's
not a man's, it's a woman's."
"Now that you speak of it, you're right," said Shif'less Sol.
"It's funny to hear an Injun woman chantin' about battles as she
comes into camp. That's the business o' warriors."
"Then this is no ordinary woman," said Henry.
"They'll pass along that trail there within twenty yards of us,
Sol, and we want to see her."
"So we do," said Sol, "but I ain't breathin' while they pass."
They flattened themselves against the earth until the keenest eye
could not see them in the darkness. All the time the singing was
growing louder, and both remained, quite sure that it was the
voice of a woman.
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