Another night came. Gilbert lay down some way farther off from the fire than usual, and Fenton, pretending to stumble as he passed, threw himself down by his side. Their guards, taking no notice of this, allowed them to remain where they were, while they set themselves to cooking part of a deer they had shot during the day. The Indians, who had been ranging two at a time over the country in search of game, were more tired than usual, and after gorging themselves with venison, lay down to sleep, one only remaining on guard to keep up the fire. He, too, after piling on more wood, which, being green, did not blaze up, sat down, and in a short time Gilbert saw him stretch himself at his length, a loud snore announcing that he, also, had gone to sleep. Gilbert had been gradually getting his head closer and closer to Fenton's arms; he now in eager haste began to gnaw away at the leathern thongs which bound them. The task was not an easy one, and such as a sailor only, accustomed to all sorts of knots, could have accomplished. It was done at length, when, lifting up his head, he observed that the Indians were still fast asleep. Fenton on this, slowly rolling round, with his hands at liberty, quickly cast off Gilbert's bonds. To get hold of their weapons was their next task. Fortunately, their fire-arms and ammunition-belts had been carried by the Indians who lay nearest to them; they marked this while the fire was still blazing, and therefore knew where to find them. While Fenton crawled towards one, Gilbert in the same way approached the other,--now stooping, now moving a few inches, till he felt his hands on his weapon. Fenton eagerly grasping his sword, rose to his feet, and drawing it from its scabbard, pointing Gilbert to do the same, made as if he would kill the sleeping Indians. Gilbert lifted up his hand to implore him to desist just as his weapon was about to descend, scarcely able to refrain from crying out. Fenton obeyed him. He then signed to him that they must next, if possible, possess themselves of the Indians' bows. The attempt was a daring one, but they so lay that they could be lifted without disturbing their owners. Though they could not carry them off, the fire would render them useless. And now, seeing how soundly the Indians slept, they lifted them one after the other, and drove their ends among the burning embers. The Indians' tomahawks were in their belts, or they would have treated them in the same manner. Any further delay would be dangerous: stooping down so that, should either of the Indians awake, there might be less chance of their being seen, they made their way into the forest. Should they keep to the south they might meet their approaching foes. They therefore turned to the east, hoping thus either to make their way to the sea or to reach the village of some friendly tribe. Every instant they expected to be pursued; but as they stopped to listen no