It was almost dark, for the sky had clouded over, and every now and then a few drops of rain fell, but the soft light of the summer night prevailed to some extent, and Lucius, who could see the outlines of the steep heights across the river, fell to picturing the battle which had been waged beyond them that day, and wondering which side had gained the victory. He lost himself in his musings for a quarter of an hour, and then fumbled mechanically for his watch. ‘I wonder if the hour is up,’ he said to himself; ‘I’m beginning to feel drowsy now. Oh, I forgot. I left it at home.’ The word gave his thoughts a new turn, and in fancy he saw his mother grieving over his absence, and despairing of ever seeing him again. The idea distressed him, and presently conscience began to add her stings, and strive as he would to excuse his disobedience, his mood grew gloomier and gloomier. ‘I hate the dark,’ he muttered; ‘it always makes me feel so lonesome. Surely the hour must be up.’ As a matter of fact, he had kept watch but for twenty-minutes, but those who have tried it know how slowly the minutes drag themselves along in the dark, when the sense of time is, as it were, abolished, and the attention, with nothing else to attract it, is firmly fixed on the hours, whose wings seem to have been clipped for the occasion. It is the watched pot that never boils. At last the lonesome feeling overcame Lucius to such an extent that he could bear it no longer; so rising to his feet, he stole softly across the cave and sat down beside the snoring Grizzly, for company, as he expressed it to himself. Sitting there in the deeper darkness, a gentle drowsiness fell upon him. He made one or two not very vigorous efforts to shake it off, and then, yielding to its delicious influence, sank into a refreshing sleep. Scarcely a moment later, as it seemed to him, he was awakened. A hand was laid upon his shoulder, and another pressed lightly over his mouth. ‘Hush, Luce,’ whispered Ephraim’s voice close to his ear. ‘Git up softly. It’s time we war out er this. They’re huntin’ fer us.’ ‘Where?’ whispered Lucius back. ‘Thar’s a boat comin’ down the river. I jest caught sight er the flash of a lantern. They’re searchin’ the banks. Come, quick!’ They groped about in the dark until they found the rifle and their belts, which they put on, and stole to the mouth of the cave. Far up the river they saw a little twinkling light, which, as they watched it, grew slowly larger. Very slowly, for the search was a careful one, and the hunters were taking their time. ‘What a good thing you saw it!’ said Lucius in a low voice. ‘They might have walked right in upon us if you hadn’t. Oh, Grizzly,’ he added in a tone of deep self-reproach, ‘I went to sleep without waking you!’ ‘Ye rolled over on me wanst ye war asleep, and thet woke me,’ answered Ephraim. ‘I let ye snooze ez long ez I dared. Never mind thet now. Let’s consider how we’re ter git out er this.’