Failing in this, he began to croon a savage, mournful air, and presently, forgetting himself, to sing outright.
"Be quiet!" ordered his master.

"There may be Indians abroad." The song came to an end as abruptly as it lad begun, and the singer, having nothing better to do, went fast asleep.

His companion, more wakeful, lay with his hands behind his head and his eyes upon the splendor of the firmament.

Lying so, he could not see the valleys nor the looming mountains.

There were only the dome of the sky, the grass, and himself.
He stared at the moon, and made pictures of her shadowy places; then fell to thinking of the morrow, and of the possibility that after all he might never find again the cabin in the valley.