his blanket or buffalo robe round him, he walks up and down as if he
were a member of the tribe. At the same time he dexterously cuts the
lariats of such horses as he observes are not hobbled. He dare not
stoop to cut the hobbles, as the action would be observed, and
suspicion would be instantly aroused. He then leaps on the best horse
he can find, and uttering a terrific war-whoop darts away into the
plains, driving the loosened horses before him.

No such dark thieves were supposed to be near the camp under the
birch-tree, however, so Joe, and Dick, and Henri ate their supper in
comfort, and let their horses browse at will on the rich pasturage.

A bright ruddy fire was soon kindled, which created, as it were, a
little ball of light in the midst of surrounding darkness for the
special use of our hardy hunters. Within this magic circle all was
warm, comfortable, and cheery; outside all was dark, and cold, and
dreary by contrast.

When the substantial part of supper was disposed of, tea and pipes
were introduced, and conversation began to flow. Then the three
saddles were placed in a row; each hunter wrapped himself in his
blanket, and pillowing his head on his saddle, stretched his feet
towards the fire and went to sleep, with his loaded rifle by his side
and his hunting-knife handy in his belt. Crusoe mounted guard by
stretching himself out _couchant_ at Dick Varley's side. The faithful
dog slept lightly, and never moved all night; but had any one observed
him closely he would have seen that every fitful flame that burst from
the sinking fire, every unusual puff of wind, and every motion of the
horses that fed or rested hard by, had the effect of revealing a speck
of glittering white in Crusoe's watchful eye.