his entrance into it. Yet he believed that
he could slip past. His skill had triumphed over greater tests.
After dark he began his journey, buoyant and strong from his long sleep,
and continued his wide circuit intending to approach his destination
from the west. Distance did not amount to much to the borderer, and his
long, easy gait carried him on, mile after mile.
It was another night, brilliant with moon and stars, and Henry was able
to see the larger trail of smoke still traced on the northern horizon.
His sense of direction was perfect, but he looked up now and then at the
smoky bar, always keeping it on his right, and three or four hours after
sunset he began to curve in towards his friends. The country into which
he had come was similar in character to that which he had left, heavy
forest, rolling hills and many creeks and brooks. He had never been in
that immediate region before, and he judged by the amount of game
springing up before him that it had not been visited by anybody in a
long time. It was always a cause of wonder to him that a region as large
as Kentucky, four fifths the size of all England, should be totally
without Indian inhabitants.
The fact that Indians from the North and Indians from the South were
said to fight there when on their hunting expeditions, and that hence
they preferred to leave it as a barrier or neutral ground, did not
wholly account for the fact to him. Farther north and farther south the
Indians occupied all the country and fought with one another, but in
this beautiful and fertile land there was no village, and not even a
stray lodge.
He had often asked himself the reason, and while he was asking it he
came to a long low mound, covered with trees of smaller growth than
those in the surrounding forest. At first he took it for a hill just
like the others, but its shape did not seem natural, and, despite the
importance of time he looked again, and once more. Then he walked a
little way up the mound and his moccasined foot struck lightly against
something hard. He stooped, and catching hold of the impediment pulled
from the earth a broken piece of pottery.
It seemed old, very old, and wishing to rest a little, Henry sat down
and gazed at it. The Indians of the present day could not possibly have
made it, and it was impossible also that any white settler or hunter
could have left it there. He dropped the fragment and rising, looked
farther, finding two more pieces buried
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