"No, Paul. It'll have to be Shif'less Sol, while the rest of you stand by as a reserve. What call shall we use, the owl or the wolf?" "Let it be the wolf," said the shiftless one, "'cause I feel like a wolf tonight, ready to snap at an' bite them that's tryin' to hurt our people." "Sol gits mighty ferocious when thar ain't anythin' more terrible than a rabbit close by," said Long Jim. "It ain't that. It's my knowin' that you'll run to my help ef I git into trouble," said Shif'less Sol. Paul felt a little disappointment, but it disappeared quickly. He knew that Shif'less Sol was the one who ought to go, and in the high tasks they had set for themselves there were enough dangers for all. "Then it will be the cry of the wolf," said Henry. "To most people their yelps are alike, but not to us. You won't forget the particular kind of howl that Sol and I give forth?" "Never," said Long Jim. "Thar ain't another sech wolf in the woods ez Shif'less Sol." A few more brief words and Henry and his comrade were gone, traveling at a swift rate toward the Indian camp. Dark and the forest separated the two from the three, but they could send their signal cries at any time across the intervening space, and communication was not interrupted. They advanced in silence several miles, and then they became very cautious, because they knew that they were within the fringe of scouts and hunters. With so many to feed it was likely that the Indians would hunt by night, especially as the wild turkeys were numerous, and it was easy to obtain them in the dark. Both Henry and Shif'less Sol saw turkey signs, and their caution increased, when they noticed a dozen dusky figures of large birds on boughs near by, sure proof that the warriors would soon be somewhere in the neighborhood, if they were not so already. They began to stoop now, and use cover all the way, and presently Henry felt that their precautions were well taken, as a faint but distant sound, not native to the forest, came to his ear. "There, Sol!" he whispered. "Did you hear it? To the right." The shiftless one listened a moment or two and replied: "Yes, I kin make it out." "I say it's the twang of a bowstring, Sol." "So do I, Henry." "They're probably shooting the turkeys out of the trees with arrows. Saves noise and their powder and lead, too." "Wherein the Injun shows a heap o' sense, Henry." "I can hear more than one bow twanging now, Sol. The turkeys must be plentiful hereabouts, but even with bows and arrows only used against 'em they're bound to take alarm soon." "Yes, thar go some o' 'em gobblin' now, an' they're flyin' this way." They heard the whirr of wings carrying heavy bodies, and frightened turkeys flew directly over their heads. As the Indians might come in pursuit, Henry and Shif'less Sol lay down among the bushes. A shouting broke out near them, and the forest, for a wide space, was filled with the whirring of wings.