It was worth looking at, if only for the way in which it was rising. The mud and stones went into place with a perfect rush. At that rate there would quickly be a finished house there, such as it was to be. All was well and solidly laid, too, and the inner face was smooth enough. That was more than could be said for the outside, and Pine remarked, "Reckon nobody'll care to rub himself very hard against the side of that shelter when it's done." From the house they both strolled away for a look at the animals, and then on down to the mouth of the notch. They were noting with care the several peculiarities of the rocky elevations to the right and left, when the judge felt his arm gripped very hard, and Yellow Pine exclaimed, "Look there, jedge! Something's happened to the young redskin." Judge Parks carried a spy-glass as good as Sile's and it was up instantly. "That's Sile, but the horse he's leading isn't a pony. Look, Pine." "I'd call it--How close this thing does bring 'em. I could count his buttons. He's carrying two rifles and a lance. Something mighty queer has turned up, jedge, but you can see that Sile's all right. What can have become of Two Arrows? I hope he hasn't been wiped out. He was the likeliest kind of a young chap." "We'll know when he gets here." Waiting was about all they could do, but they grew more and more impatient until Sile came within hail. After that the questions and answers chased each other back and forth until the entire account of Sile's hunt and its ending was perfectly understood. Sile saw his father shudder and turn pale, and then flush fiery red, while he described his encounter with the Apache. He had dismounted before he got to that, and the next thing he felt was a pair of arms around him, and he heard Yellow Pine exclaim, "I could a'most hug the young rooster myself. It was jest the gamest kind of thing to do. I say, Sile, he barked ye on yer left arm. I'd call it, now, if that there wasn't close work. Take yer jacket off." Sile had hardly paid any attention to that matter, although his arm had felt a little stiff, and there was really not much of a hurt. In another instant his father was saying so, but he said it with a peculiar look upon his face. The Indian's bullet had been a "Minie-ball," of course, and, as it grazed his arm, one of its ragged edges had torn through the cloth and touched the flesh only just enough to break the skin and draw a little blood. Sile could fairly say he was "wounded," and no more, and Yellow Pine remarked, "Reckon we won't send ye to the hospital for that; but I'm all-fired glad it didn't go any nigher. It's jest on a line to where it would ha' knocked yer arm off, if it had struck onto the bone. It's the narrerest kind of an escape." Judge Parks had nothing more to say, for some reason, and seemed willing that Sile should go right on with further particulars of the day.