Shif'less Sol looked at him inquiringly, but he did not say anything. Like the rest of the five, Sol had acquired the most implicit confidence in their bold young leader. He had every reason to feel good. That painful soreness was disappearing from his ankles. As they advanced through the woods, weeks dropped from him one by one. Then the months began to roll away, and at last time fell year by year. As they approached the deeps of the forest where the swamp lay, Solomon Hyde, the so called shiftless one, and wholly undeserving of the name, was young again.
“I've got a fine little home for us, Sol,” said Henry. “Best we've had since that time we spent a winter on the island in the lake. This is littler, but it's harder to find. It'll be a fine thing to know you're sleeping safe and sound with five hundred Iroquois warriors only a few miles away.”
“Then it'll suit me mighty well,” said Shif'less Sol, grinning broadly. “That's jest the place fur a lazy man like your humble servant, which is me.”
They reached the stepping stones, and Henry paused a moment.
“Do you feel steady enough, Sol, to jump from stone to stone?” he asked.
“I'm feelin' so good I could fly ef I had to,” he replied. “Jest you jump on, Henry, an' fur every jump you take you'll find me only one jump behind you!”
Henry, without further ado, sprang from one stone to another, and behind him, stone for stone, came the shiftless one. It was now past midnight, and the moon was obscured. The keenest eyes twenty yards away could not have seen the two dusky figures as they went by leaps into the very heart of the great, black swamp. They reached the solid ground, and then the hut.
“Here, Sol,” said Henry, “is my house, and yours, also, and soon, I hope, to be that of Paul, Tom, and Jim, too.”
“Henry,” said Shif'less Sol, “I'm shorely glad to come.”
They went inside, stacked their captured rifles against the wall, and soon were sound asleep.