Schneider had for a second an attack of nerves, similar to that fever in the amateur Nimrod when first blundering upon the wallow of a buck deer. Henri gave the shaking marksman a poke in the ribs. "Shoot, old scout, or give me the gun!" By the poke and the hissed demand, Schneider was himself again. He drew bead on the nearest hare, and with the puff of smoke from the revolver muzzle the little animal made a frantic leap, ending in a complete somersault and an inert heap of fur. Another whiplike crack--and over went a second rabbit, stopped on the first jump to cover. "Another cartridge or two and I would have potted the lot," boasted Schneider, "but even a pair of them is a mighty big draw for us." Henri missed these remarks, for he was Johnny-on-the-spot to retrieve the game. The pistol practice had startled Captain Schwimmer from a doze, and he was under impression that his friends were fighting off another attack by the Russians. The captain had begun to take notice of and interest in what was going on about him. Raising himself on his elbows, he saw the result of the shooting match in the pair of plump bunnies swinging across Henri's shoulder when the boy capered into the cave. It occurred to the captain to inspect the knapsack upon which his head had been pillowed. "Is this all the food in the camp?" he questioned, handling the few scraps in the sack. Henri nodded in the affirmative, taken unawares by the quick query. "And I have been eating my fill regularly on this march, have I not?" "I hope you have not been hungry, captain," evaded Henri, realizing that the officer was putting two and two together. "I see it all now," exclaimed the invalid, "you two have starved yourselves that I might live." "Shucks, captain, don't put it that way: the rations were yours in the first place, and, besides, look at the glorious feast we're all going to have." Henri's attempt to lightly pass the soldier's revolt against the self-denial practiced by Schneider and himself resulted only in the invalid turning face downward on the nearly empty knapsack, his emotion shown by convulsive movement between the shoulders. Schneider, wise unto himself, had kept out of the discussion, and had practically contributed to the settlement of the hunger question by neatly skinning and cleaning the hare meat. A hasty fire of dried moss and twigs and Schneider's big knife utilized as a spit raised a savory odor in the cave, and the picking of one set of bones that evening helped a lot to revive courage and hope. The captain, "by the doctor's orders," was compelled to accept his share. The other hare made the breakfast for the third day out. Schneider alleged that he had a hunch that this rabbit business had turned the scale of luck, and to insure the belief he carefully pocketed the left hind foot of one of the animals.