The little cabin was yet an impregnable castle to him.

The crackle of rifle fire died, the last plume of white smoke rose over the forest, drifted away, and was lost in the brilliant sunshine.

Silence and desolation again held the wilderness.
"Nothing will happen for some hours now," said Henry cheerfully, "so the best thing that we can do, Paul, is to have dinner." "Yes," said Paul, with his quick fancy.

"We can dine sumptuously--venison and pigeon and spring water." "And lucky we are to have them," said Henry.
They ate of the venison and pigeon, and they drank from the barrel.

They were not creatures of luxury and ease, and they had no complaint to make.
When they finished, Henry said: "Paul, you ought to take a nap, and then you'll be fresh for to-night, when things will be happening." Paul at first was indignant at the idea that he should go to sleep with the enemy all about them, but Henry soon persuaded him what a wise thing it would be.