sing, and others would play strange, old tunes on accordion or guitar.
Paul heard many a snatch of song in Spanish or French or Portuguese, and
the wilderness would lend an additional charm to the melody. Adam Colfax,
stern ruler that he was, never forbade these amusements.

"It isn't well to stop up things too tight," he would say. "Children have
got to make noise, and men are a good deal the same way. If you seal 'em
up they'll bust."

These evening scenes always made a deep impression upon Paul. There were
the cheerful fires, lighted for cooking, and now dying down to great beds
of coals, the surrounding darkness seeming to come closer and closer, but
within it a wide circle of light in which many men sat or reclined at
ease, smoking or talking, or doing both. All were good-natured, the
weather was fair so far, the journey easy, the work not excessively hard,
and the hunters brought in fresh game in plenty.

They passed the mouth of the bayou near which the Chateau of Beaulieu
stood, and Henry and Shif'less Sol went to see it. They found a small
detachment of Spanish soldiers sent by Bernardo Galvez in possession, but
the followers of Alvarez had disappeared. The place seemed lonely and
deserted, as the soldiers of Galvez kept close to the house, as if they
were afraid of the wilderness.

Henry and Shif'less Sol sped back through the forest toward the river.

"Now I wonder," said Shif'less Sol, "what could hev become o' that Spanish
feller. He wuz jest the kind, so proud he wuz, an' thinkin' so much o'
himself, to be burnin' up with hate over what has happened."