"He can see much better at night than he can by day; but there's Thompson; let us see whether some of the spalpeens haven't made a call upon him in the darkness.
Be aisy now, in stepping over the leaves, for an Injin hears with his fingers and toes as well as his ears." The Hibernian led the way, each advancing with all the caution at his command, and using such stealth and deliberation in their movements that some ten or fifteen minutes were consumed in passing over the intervening space.

At last, however, the spot was reached where they had bidden good-bye to their friend, earlier in the evening.
"Here's about the place," said Mickey, looking about him; "but I does n't observe the gintleman, by the token of which he must have strayed away.

Hilloa!" He repeated the call in a low, cautious voice, but still loud enough to be heard a dozen yards or more from where he stood; but no response came, and, although neither of the two gave any expression to it, yet they were sensible of a growing fear that this absence or silence of their friend had a most serious meaning.
"Yonder he is now," suddenly exclaimed Fred.

"He's a great sentinel, too, for he's sound asleep." The stalwart figure of Thompson was seen seated upon the ground, with his back against a tree, and his chin on his breast, like one sunk in a deep slumber.

The sentinel had seated himself on the edge of the grove, where all the trees and undergrowth were behind, and the open space in front of him.