uthern shore, not
those of signals, but probably the luminous glow from camp fires as they
burned with a steady blaze. The Indians were on watch, and the faint
sound of two or three rifle shots showed that the night did not keep
them from buzzing and stinging about Colonel Clark's force. Yet Henry's
pulse leaped in throat and temple. He had passed one formidable obstacle
and it was a good omen. The stars in their courses were fighting for
him, and he would triumph over the others as they came.

But he checked his speed, thinking that the Indian canoes would be thick
around the mouth of the Licking, and presently he became conscious of a
great weariness. He had been in the water a long time and one could not
dive and swim forever. His arms and legs ached and he felt a soreness in
his chest. It was too dangerous to pull in to the bank at that point,
and he tried a delicate experiment. He sought to crawl upon his little
raft and lie there flat upon his back, a task demanding the skill of an
acrobat.

Three or four times Henry was within an inch of overturning his frail
craft with the precious freight, but he persisted, and by skillfully
balancing himself and the raft too he succeeded at last. Then he was
compelled to lie perfectly still, with his arms outstretched and his
feet in the water. He was flat upon his back and he could look at only
the heavens, which offered to his view nothing--no bright stars and
shining moon, only lowering clouds. If an enemy appeared, he must depend
upon his ear to give warning. But the physical difficulty of his
position did not keep him from feeling a delightful sense of rest. The
soreness left his chest, the ache disappeared from his arms and legs,
and he drew the fresh air into his lungs in deep and easy breaths. An
occasional kick of his feet kept the raft from floating down stream,
and, for a while, he lay there, studying the clouds, and wondering how
long it would be until the twinkle of a star would break through them.
He heard the sound of both paddles and oars, the first to the north and
the other to the south. But his experienced ear told him that each was
at least two hundred yards away, which was too far for anyone to see him
stretched out upon his boards. So he rested on and waited for his ears
to tell him whether the sounds were coming any nearer. The boat with the
oars passed out of hearing and the sound of the oars became fainter and
fainter. Henry's heart ticked a note of t