"Ach, Mein Herr Breakstone, but you are one cheerful man!" he said. "You never do any harm, because none iss meant. When you drink the coffee you make me think of the German in the old country drinking beer, and you like it as well." "I snatch the joys of the flying day, or, rather, night, and think not of the ills of the morrow," replied Breakstone. "Somebody somewhere said something like that, and, whoever he was, he was a good talker. To-morrow, Phil, I think I may get a chance to show you how to shoot a deer." "I hope so," said Phil eagerly. He, too, was luxuriating, and he was fully as cheerful as Bill Breakstone. The great beds of coal threw a warm, luminous glow over all the circle enveloped by the wagons. Everybody ate and felt good. The pleasant hum of pleasant talk arose. Outside the wagons the tethered horses cropped the short young grass, and they, too, were content. Not far away the forest of magnolia, poplar, and many kinds of oak rustled before the slight wind, and the note that came from it was also of content. Phil, after he had eaten and drunk all that he wished, and it was much, lay on the ground with his back against the log and listened to the talk. He heard wonderful tales of adventure in the West Indies and on the South American coast, of fights in Mexico and Texas, when the little bands of Texans won their independence, of encounters with raiding Comanches, and of strange stone ruins left by vanished races in the deserts of the Far West. He was fascinated as he listened. The spirit of romance was developed strongly within him. It was, indeed, a most adventurous search upon which he was embarked, and this spirit, strong, enduring, hardened to meet all things, was what he needed most. As the fires died down, and the warmth decreased, he wrapped his blanket around himself, and now and then dozed a little. But he still felt very content. It seemed to him that it was uncommon fortune to have joined such an expedition, and it was a good omen. He must succeed in his great search. "Well, Sir Roland, what is it?" said Bill Breakstone at last. "Do you want to sleep in the wagon or on the ground here? The good Knight Orlando, who for the present is myself, means to choose the ground." "No stuffy wagon for me on a night like this," rejoined Phil sleepily. "I am going to sleep just where I lie." He settled back more comfortably, put his arm under his head, and in a few moments was in the deep, dreamless sleep of youth and health. Bill Breakstone quickly followed him to that pleasant land of Nowhere. Then Arenberg and the Captain were soon entering the same region. The fires sank lower and lower, the sound of breathing from many men arose, the horses outside became quiet, and peace settled over the wilderness camp.