The darkness grew denser and heavier, but after a while it began to thin and lighten.

The sky became clear, and the great stars swam in the dusky blue.

Then Shif'less Sol fell asleep, head on the leaves, feet to the fire, and slept soundly all through the night.
He was up at dawn, cooked his breakfast, and then, after another long and searching examination of the surrounding forest, departed, leaving the coals of the fire to smoulder, and tell as they might that some one had passed.

Shif'less Sol throughout that morning repeated the tactics of the preceding day, leaving footprints that would last, and cutting pieces of bark from the trees with his sharp hatchet.

At the noon hour he stopped, according to custom, and, just when he had lighted his fire, he uttered a low cry of pleasure.
The shiftless one was gazing back upon his own trail, and the singular look of exaltation upon his face deepened.