So thinking, he was full of humility and
meant to continue in the perilous path that he had chosen, the path of
service for others.

The spiritual quality was strong in Henry's nature; in truth, it was
rooted in the characters of all the five, although it differed in its
manifestations, and he gazed long at the western heavens, where the
splendid colors of the setting sun blazed in their deepest hues and then
faded, leaving only a warm glow behind. The night, as the forecast
already showed, would be clear and cold, and he descended into the new
valley, which was much wider than the one he had left. It was
comparatively free of undergrowth, and he saw through the trees the
gleam of water which proved to be a river on his right, and of fair
size.

He believed that the larger valley would receive the smaller one and its
draining creek not far ahead, and a new problem was presented. Unless he
swam the river and kept to the east the warriors would come on anew from
the west and pin him against the stream.

Should he plunge into the cold waters? It was not a prospect that he
liked; but, while he considered it, he became aware that the miracle
created in his behalf was not yet finished. He had thought that it was
done when the wolves intervened, and again that it was done when the
great fog came, but there was yet another link in the lengthening chain
of marvelous events.

A sound from the river and he stepped hastily to the shelter of a great
tree trunk. It was the plash of a paddle, and as he looked, peeping from
the side of the trunk, a warrior stepped from a canoe at the river's
brink and took a long look at the forest. Henry judged that he was an
outpost or sentinel of some kind, or perhaps a member of a provision
fleet. The man tied his canoe with a willow withe to a sapling and
strode away out of sight, doubtless intending to meet the band to which
he belonged. Henry's heart leaped. He was always quick to perceive and
to act, and he saw his opportunity.

Twenty swift steps and he was at the margin of the stream, one slash of
his knife and the willow withe was cut, one sweep of the paddle and the
stout canoe was far out in the stream, bearing with it the brave youth
and his fortunes.

Henry exulted. Truly chance--or was it chance?--served him well! He had
a singular feeling that the canoe had been put there especially for his
use. No more running through the forest. He could call a new set of
muscles into play, a