"It seems to me that for a lazy and tired man you're extremely
anxious for a fight," Henry replied.
"I try to be resigned," said Shif'less Sol. But his eyes were
sparkling with the light of battle.
They went into camp that night in a dense forest, with the Seneca
Castle about ten miles ahead. Henry was quite sure that the
Senecas to whom it belonged had not yet abandoned it, and with
the aid of the other tribes might make a stand there. It was
more than likely, too, that the Senecas had sharpshooters and
sentinels well to the south of their town, and it behooved the
riflemen to be extremely careful lest they run into a hornet's
nest. Hence they lighted no fires, despite a cold night wind
that searched them through until they wrapped themselves in their
blankets.
The night settled down thick and dark, and the band lay close in
the thickets. Shif'less Sol was within a yard of Henry. He had
observed his young leader's face closely that day, and he had a
mind of uncommon penetration.
"Henry," he whispered, "you're hopin' that you'll find Braxton
Wyatt an' his band at Little Beard's town?"
"That among other things," replied Henry in a similar whisper.
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