of his flight some one
in the half curve would gain by it. He must not lose the single yard! He
glanced up through the green veil of foliage at the sun, and noticed
that he was running toward the southeast, the way that he wanted to go.
Other such glances from time to time would serve to keep him straight,
and again he felt the mighty and exultant swell that was in the nature
of spiritual exaltation.

The war cries ceased. The Wyandots now pursued in silence, and it would
be a pursuit long and tenacious. It was their nature not to give up, and
they were filled with chagrin that so notable a prisoner had slipped
from them, breaking through their lines and gaining the forest in the
face of the impossible. Henry knew all these things, too, and he had no
intention of relaxing his speed until he was beyond the range of their
rifles. It was well for him that his muscles and sinews were like woven
wire, and that he had striven so hard to keep himself in physical trim
while he lay a prisoner in the lodge. His breathing was still long and
free, and his stride did not decline in either length or quickness.

The ground rolled slightly, and was free from undergrowth for the first
half mile. Then he came to clumps of bushes, but they did not decrease
his speed, and when he looked back again he saw no Wyandot. The fleetest
among them had not been able to equal him, and before long he heard them
calling signal cries to one another. The chiefs were giving directions,
seeking to place the fugitive, who was now lost to sight, but Henry only
ran the faster. He did not delude himself with any such foolish belief
that they would quit the pursuit because they could no longer see him.

CHAPTER VII

ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS

When Henry looked back a third time and saw that no Wyandot had yet come
into view, he made another spurt, one in which he taxed his power of
muscle and lung to the utmost. He maintained his speed for a half mile
and then slowed down. He had no doubt that he had increased his lead
over them, and now he would use cunning in place of strength and speed.
It was a country of springs and brooks, and he looked for one in order
that he might use this common device of the border--wading in the water
to hide his tracks. But he saw none. Here fortune was not kind, and he
ran on in the long, easy stride like the gallop of a horse.

He still sought to keep a perfectly straight course toward the
southeast. It would not pe