if they knew how he came to his end? They would put him
with old squaws or little children. And how Braxton Wyatt and his
lieutenant, the squat Tory, would laugh! That was the bitterest thought
of all. But the frenzy passed, and he fell into a sleep which was only
a succession of bad dreams. He was running the gauntlet again among
the Shawnees. Again, kneeling to drink at the clear pool, he saw in the
water the shadow of the triumphant warrior holding the tomahawk above
him. One after another the most critical periods of his life were lived
over again, and then he sank into a deep torpor, from which he did not
rouse himself until far into the next day.

Henry was conscious that he was very weak, but he seemed to have
regained much of his lost will. He looked once more at the fatal left
ankle. It had improved greatly. He could even stand upon it, but when he
rose to his feet he felt a singular dizziness. Again, what he had gained
in one way he had lost in another. The earth wavered. The smooth surface
of the lake seemed to rise swiftly, and then to sink as swiftly. The far
slope down which he had shot rose to the height of miles. There was a
pale tinge, too, over the world. He sank down, not because of his ankle,
but because he was afraid his dizzy head would make him fall.

The power of will slipped away again for a minute or two. He was ashamed
of such extraordinary weakness. He looked at one of his hands. It was
thin, like the band of a man wasted with fever, and the blue veins stood
out on the back of it. He could scarcely believe that the hand was his
own. But after the first spasm of weakness was over, the precious will
returned. He could walk. Strength enough to permit him to hobble along
had returned to the ankle at last, and mind must control the rest of his
nervous system, however weakened it might be. He must seek food.

He withdrew into the farthest recess of his covert, wrapped the blanket
tightly about his body, and lay still for a long time. He was preparing
both mind and body for the supreme effort. He knew that everything hung
now on the surviving remnants of his skill and courage.

Weakened by shock and several days of fasting, he had no great reserve
now except the mental, and he used that to the utmost. It was proof of
his youthful greatness that it stood the last test. As he lay there,
the final ounce of will and courage came. Strength which was of the mind
rather than of the body flowed back into