Then all sat down near the door. A lucky turn of the wind sent the pure sweet air, crisp with the touch of spring, pouring into their cavern. It was like the breath of Heaven, taking away the sting of smoke from nostrils and throat. The place itself soon filled entirely with a new atmosphere, vital and strong. Then, one by one, they bathed their eyes and faces at the rill, and soon they were all gathered together again at the door, feeling as if they had been re-created. Indians were still visible on the opposite slope, and pity swelled once more in Long Jim's heart. "Now they're a-guessin', an' a-guessin', an' a-guessin' ag'in," he said, "an' a-guessin' wrong ev'ry time. A little while ago our smoke bothered 'em, an' now they're bothered 'cause thar ain't no smoke. They're wonderin' ef the volcano that busted right under us hez quit so soon, an' whether we're all charred ruins, or real live fellers with rifles in our hands that kin shoot an' hit. That I call a state uv mind that would draw pity from anybody." "Whatever it is," said Paul, "they'll not guess what has really happened, and ac our army of four is now provisioned indefinitely, we can bid them defiance." "I like them words 'bid them defiance,'" said Long Jim. "Ef I met 'defiance' all by itself I wouldn't know what it meant, but speakin' ez you do, Paul, an' with all the surroundin's you give it I understan' it, an' it sounds mighty fine. Braxton Wyatt, I bid you defiance; Blackstaffe, I bid you defiance; Red Eagle, I bid you defiance, an' I bid defiance to ev'ry warrior an' renegade in all these woods, east uv the Missip, west uv the Missip, north uv the Ohio an' south uv the Ohio." "But not the lightning, Jim," said Paul. "Ajax did that and got hurt." "You needn't tell me that, Paul. I don't need the example of no Ajax to teach me sense. I ain't defyin' no lightnin', past, present or future. I know lightnin', an' I've too much respeck fur it. It's about the only thing that kin hit you an' you can't hit back." "The Indians have retreated further into the woods," said Henry. "They're probably lying down and resting. They won't do anything today, but tonight they'll act. They have every incentive to finish their task here as soon as they can and join the main force. When dark comes we must watch two by two." Night came slowly, the great sun blazing in red and gold in the west. Henry, with all his lore of the forest and wilderness, never failed to observe a brilliant sunset, and while he watched against an ambush he also watched the deep, rich colors as they faded. The wind had blown gently all day long, but now with the coming of the darkness it swelled into the song which he alone heard, that playing of the breeze upon the leaves, which his supersense translated into notes and bars and harmonies. Whenever he heard it he was uplifted and exalted in a singular manner, as if the distant heralds were already blowing the trumpets of victory. He was sure now of success.