rades of his were resourceful, and he was presently able to
dismiss the question from his mind. He had acquired with the patience of
the Indian another of his virtues, an ability to dismiss all worries,
sit perfectly still, and be completely happy. This quality may have had
its basis originally in physical content, the satisfaction that came to
the savage when he had eaten all he wished, when no enemy was present,
and he could lie at ease on a soft couch. But in Henry it was higher,
and was founded chiefly on the knowledge of a deed well done and
absolute confidence in the future, although the physical quality was not
lacking.

He felt an immense peace. Nothing was wrong. The day was just right,
neither too hot nor too cool. The blaze of the brilliant skies and of
the great golden sun was pleasantly shaded from his eyes by the green
veil of the leaves. Those surely were the finest deer steaks that he had
ever eaten! There could not be such another wilderness as this on the
face of the earth! And he, Henry Ware, was one of the luckiest of human
beings!

He lay a full two hours wrapped in content. He did not move arm or leg.
Nothing but his long, deep breathing and his bright blue eyes, shaded by
half-fallen lashes, told that he lived. Every muscle was relaxed. There
was absolutely no effort, either physical or mental.

Yet the word passed by the forest creatures to one another was entirely
different from the word that had been passed the night before. The
slackened human figure that never moved was dangerous, it was once more
the king of the wilderness, and the four-footed kind, after looking once
and fearfully upon it, must steal in terror away.

The wolf felt it. Slinking through the thicket, he measured the great
length of the recumbent shape, observed the half-opened eye, and
departed in speed and silence; a yellow puma smelt the human odor,
thought at first that the youth was dead, but, after a single look,
followed the wolf, his heart quaking within him. A foolish bear, also,
shambled into the thicket, but he was not too foolish, after he saw
Henry, to shamble quickly away.

When Henry rose he was as thoroughly refreshed and restored as if he had
never run a gantlet, made a flight of a night and a day, and fought with
a Wyandot for his life. The very completeness of it had made him rest as
much in two hours as another would have rested in six. He resumed his
flight, taking with him venison steaks that he had c