Ned and
Obed moved themselves into more comfortable positions and waited.
They were to have another terrible trial of Indian patience. No attack
was made. The two lay behind the logs and watched the circle of the
forest, until their eyes grew weary. The silence and peace that had
marked the dawn continued through all the hours of the morning. Although
the wild turkeys had flown away, the birds that lived in this forest
seemed to take no alarm. They hopped peacefully from bough to bough, and
sang their little songs as if there were no alien presence. But Ned and
Obed had been through too many dangers to be entrapped into a belief
that the Lipans had gone. They matched patience with patience. The sun
went slowly up toward the zenith, and the earth grew hot, but they were
protected from the fiery rays by the foliage of the trees. Yet Ned grew
restless. He was continually poking the muzzle of his rifle over the log
and seeking a target, although the forest revealed no human being.
Finally Obed put his hand upon his arm.
"Easy, now, easy, Ned," he said. "Don't waste your strength and nerves.
They can't charge us, at least in the daylight, without our seeing them,
and, when they come, we want to be as strong of body and brain as
possible.
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