e sweep of his knife, and Henry's
arms fell free. Sharp pains shot through them as the circulation began
to flow with its old freedom, but he refused to wince. He had chosen a
policy, the one that he thought best fitted to his present condition,
and he would abide by it through all things. He merely stepped a little
to one side and watched while they made the camp.

The task was quickly done. Three or four warriors gathered fallen
brushwood and set it on fire with flint and steel. Then they cooked over
it strips of venison from their pouches, giving several strips to Henry,
which he ate with no appearance of haste or eagerness, although he was
quite hungry.

It was growing very dark, and the lightning on the horizon became vivid
and intense. The air was heavy and oppressive. The fire burned with a
languid drooping flame, and the forest was absolutely still, except when
the thunder grumbled like the low, ominous mutter of a distant
cannonade.

"A storm comes," said Timmendiquas, glancing at the lowering skies.

"It will be here soon," said Henry, who knew that the words were spoken
to him.

Every warrior carried a blanket, which he now wrapped closely about his
body, but Henry asked for nothing. He would not depart from his policy.

He stood in the center of the glade listening, although there was yet
nothing to hear. But it was this extraordinary breathless silence that
impressed him most. He felt as he breathed the heavy air that it was the
sign of impending danger. The warning of the wind among the leaves had
not been more distinct.

A long, rolling crash came from their right. "Heno (Thunder)!" said
White Lightning. He did not mean to say the obvious, but his emphasis
indicated that it was very loud thunder.

The thunder sank away in a low, distant note that echoed grimly, and
then the breathless silence came again. A minute later the whole forest
swam in a glare of light so dazzling that Henry was compelled to close
his eyes. It passed in an instant, and the wilderness was all black, but
out of the southwest came a low, moaning sound.

"Iruquas (The wind)!" said the chief in the same sententious tone.

The groan became a rumble, and then, as the vanguard of the wind, came
great drops of rain that pattered like hail stones.

"Inaunduse (It rains)," said the chief.

But it was merely a brief shower like a volley from withdrawing
skirmishers, and then the rumble of the wind gave way to a crash which
rose