His sharp ears heard, too, every sound in the grove, the rustle of a stray breeze through the new leaves, or the splash of a fish, as it leaped from the water and sank back again.
The hours dragged after one another, one by one, but Shif'less Sol was not unhappy.

He was really quite willing to keep the watch, and, as Tom Ross had done, he regarded his sleeping comrades with pride, and all the warmth of good fellowship.
The night was dark, like its predecessor.

The moon's rays fell only in uneven streaks, and revealed a singular scene, a forest standing knee deep, as it were, in water.
Shif'less Sol presently took one of the blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders.

A cold damp pervaded the atmosphere, and a fog began to rise from the river.

The shiftless one was a cautious man and he knew the danger of chills and fever.