"Right, Jim. Our ears have saved us more than once, and they're going to do it again. I've an idea that they'll spread out and approach from different points."
"I think it likely. Red Eagle, their leader, is a chief uv sense, and he'll scatter his forces so we won't be able to concentrate our fire."
They waited a long time, the wind meanwhile blowing steadily, and playing its song upon the leaves. There was no other sound, but, when it was nearly midnight, a long howl, inexpressibly dreary and weird, came out of the depths of the forest.
"That's a mighty lonely wolf," whispered Long Jim.
"Listen!" Henry whispered back. "That's no wolf. It's Shif'less Sol."
"Mebbe it's so, but he's shorely howlin' like the king of all wolves."
Long Jim was right. Perhaps no wolf had ever before howled with such vigor and endurance. The long yelping, whining note filled the whole valley and quivered on the air. It rose and sank and rose again, and it was uncanny enough to make any ordinary hearer shiver to his bones.
"Now what in thunder does he mean by sech an awful howl ez that?" whispered Long Jim.
"I know," replied Henry, with a flash of intuition. "He's hanging somewhere on the outskirts of the Indian camp, and he's warning us that the attack is at hand."
"Uv course! Uv course! I might 'a' knowed. That thar Shif'less Sol is one uv the smartest men the world hez ever seed, an' while part uv our band is inside a big part uv it is outside, a-helpin' us."