He rose and tested all his bones and muscles.No stiffness or soreness had come from the rain and cold, and he was satisfied.
He was fit for any physical emergency.He looked out through the crevice.Night was coming, and on the little island in the swamp it looked inexpressibly black and gloomy.His stomach complained, but he shrugged his shoulders, acknowledging primitive necessity, and resumed his seat by the fire.There he sat until the blanket had dried, and deep night had fully come.
In the last hour or two Henry did not move.He remained before the fire, crouched slightly forward, while the generous heat fed the flame of life in him.A glowing bar, penetrating the crevice at the door, fell on the earth outside, but it did not pass beyond the close group of circling trees.The rain still fell with uncommon steadiness and persistence, but at times hail was mingled with it.Henry could not remember in his experience a more desolate night.It seemed that the whole world dwelt in perpetual darkness, and that he was the only living being on it.
Yet within the four or five feet square of the hut it was warm and bright, and he was not unhappy.
He would forget the pangs of hunger, and, wrapping himself in the dry blanket, he lay down before the bed of coals, having first raked ashes over them, and he slept one of the soundest sleeps of his life.All night long, the dull cold rain fell, and with it, at intervals, came gusts of hail that rattled like bird shot on the bark walls of the hut.Some of the white pellets blew in at the door, and lay for a moment or two on the floor, then melted in the glow of the fire, and were gone.
But neither wind, rain nor hail awoke Henry.He was as safe, for the time, in the hut on the islet, as if he were in the fort at Pittsburgh or behind the palisades at Wareville.Dawn came, the sky still heavy and dark with clouds, and the rain still falling.
Henry, after his first sense of refreshment and pleasure, became conscious of a fierce hunger that no amount of the will could now keep quiet.His was a powerful system, needing much nourishment, and he must eat.That hunger became so great that it was acute physical pain.He was assailed by it at all points, and it could be repelled by only one thing, food.He must go forth, taking all risks, and seek it.
He put on fresh wood, covering it with ashes in order that it might not blaze too high, and left the islet.The stepping stones were slippery with water, and his moccasins soon became soaked again, but he forgot the cold and wet in that ferocious hunger, the attacks of which became more violent every minute.
He was hopeful that he might see a deer, or even a squirrel, but the animals themselves were likely to keep under cover in such a rain.He expected a hard hunt, and it would be attended also by much danger - these woods must be full of Indians - but be thought little of the risk.His hunger was taking complete possession of his mind.He was realizing now that one might want a thing so much that it would drive away all other thoughts.
Rifle in hand, ready for any quick shot, he searched hour after hour through the woods and thickets.He was wet, bedraggled, and as fierce as a famishing panther, but neither skill nor instinct guided him to anything.The rabbit hid in his burrow, the squirrel remained in his hollow tree, and the deer did not leave his covert.
Henry could not well calculate the passage of time, it seemed so fearfully long, and there was no one to tell him, but he judged that it must be about noon, and his temper was becoming that of the famished panther to which he likened himself.He paused and looked around the circle of the dripping woods.He had retained his idea of direction and he knew that he could go straight back to the hut in the swamp.But he had no idea of returning now.Apower that neither he nor anyone else could resist was pushing him on his search.
Searching the gloomy horizon again, he saw against the dark sky a thin and darker line that he knew to be smoke.He inferred, also, with certainty, that it came from an Indian camp, and, without hesitation, turned his course toward it.Indian camp though it might be, and containing the deadliest of foes, he was glad to know something lived beside himself in this wilderness.
