paddlers were weary, and the chiefs and renegades, too, drooped
somewhat. They did not show their usual alertness of eye as they came
back against the stream, and Henry judged that the pursuit would lapse
in energy, while they went ashore in search of warmth and food.

A half hour after they were out of sight he came from the weeds, and,
with great sweeps of the paddle, sent the canoe shooting down the river.
He was so fresh and strong now that he felt as if he could go on
forever, and all through the night his powerful arms drove him toward
his unknown goal. He noticed that the river was broadening and the banks
were low, sometimes sandy, and he fancied that he was approaching its
outlet in one of the Great Lakes. And the chase had led so far! Nor was
it yet finished! The chiefs and the renegades, not finding him farther
back, would reorganize the pursuit and follow again.

Day came bright and warm, much warmer than it had been farther south,
and Henry paddled until evening although he found the heat oppressive.
Paddling a full day and part of a night was a great task for anybody and
he grew weary again. When the night came, seeing no reeds and bushes in
which he could hide the canoe, he resolved to sleep on land. So he
lifted it from the river and carried it a short distance inland, where
he put it down in a thicket, choosing a resting place for himself not
far away.

He spread one of the blankets as usual on dead leaves, and put the other
and the painted coat over himself. Then, knowing that he would be warm
and snug for the night, he relaxed and looked idly at the dusky woods,
feeling perfectly safe as the warriors must be far to the south.

The only living being he saw was a gray squirrel on the trunk of a tree
about twenty feet away. But he was a friend of the squirrel, and he
regarded it with friendly eyes, noting the sharpness of its claws, the
bushiness of its tail, and the alertness of its keen little nose. It was
an uncommon squirrel, endowed with great curiosity, and perception, a
leader in its tribe, and it was intensely interested in the large, still
body lying on the leaves below.

The squirrel came farther down the tree, and stared intently at Henry,
uncertain whether he was a friend or a foe. Yet he had all the aspect of
a friend. There was no hostile movement, and the bold and inquiring
fellow ventured another foot closer. Then he scuttled in alarm ten feet
back up the trunk, as the figure raised a