in the boy's
nature that he could think of all these things while he fled to escape
the tomahawk or the stake.

Up came the sun. The gray light turned to silver, and then to red and
blazing gold. A long, swelling note, the triumphant cry of the pursuing
warriors, rose behind him. Henry turned his head for one look. He saw
a group of them poised for a moment on the crest of a low hill and
outlined against the broad flame in the east. He saw their scalp locks,
the rifles in their hands, and their bare chests shining bronze in the
glow. Once more he sent back his defiant cry, now in answer to theirs,
and then, calling upon his reserves of strength and endurance, fled with
a speed that none of the warriors had ever seen surpassed.

Henry's flight lasted all that day, and he used every device to evade
the pursuit, swinging by vines, walking along fallen logs, and wading in
brooks. He did not see the warriors again, but instinct warned him that
they were yet following. At long intervals he would rest for a quarter
of an hour or so among the bushes, and at noon he ate a little of the
venison that he always carried. Three hours later he came to the river
again, and swimming it he turned on his course, but kept to the southern
side. When the twilight was falling once more he sat still in dense
covert for a long time. He neither saw nor heard a sign of human
presence, and he was sure now that the pursuit had failed. Without an
effort he dismissed it from his mind, ate a little more of the venison,
and made his bed for the night.

The whole day had been bright, with a light wind blowing, and the forest
was dry once more. As far as Henry could see it circled away on every
side, a solid dark green, the leaves of oak and beech, maple and elm
making a soft, sighing sound as they waved gently in the wind. It told
Henry of nothing but peace. He had eluded the pursuit, hence it was no
more. This was a great, friendly forest, ready to shelter him, to soothe
him, and to receive him into its arms for peaceful sleep.

He found a place among thick trees where the leaves of last year lay
deep upon the ground. He drew up enough of them for a soft bed, because
now and for the moment he was a forest sybarite. He was wise enough to
take his ease when he found it, knowing that it would pay his body to
relax.

He lay down upon the leaves, placed the rifle by his side, and spread
the blanket over himself and the weapon. The twilight was gone, an