Henry ran northward.So confident was he in his powers and the protecting darkness of the night that he sent back a sharp cry, piercing and defiant, a cry of a quality that could come only from a white throat.The warriors would know it, and he intended for them to know it.Then, holding his rifle almost parallel with his body, he darted swiftly away through the black spaces of the forest.But an answering cry came to his, the Indian yell taking up his challenge, and saying that the night would not check pursuit.
Henry maintained his swift pace for a long time, choosing the more open places that he might make no noise among the bushes and leaves.Now and then water dripped in his face, and his moccasins were wet from the long grass, but his body was warm and dry, and he felt little weariness.The clouds were now all gone, and the stars sprang out, dancing in a sky of dusky blue.
Trained eyes could see far in the forest despite the night, and Henry felt that he must be wary.He recalled the skill and tenacity of Timmendiquas.A fugitive could scarcely be trailed in the darkness, but the great chief would spread out his forces like a fan and follow.
He had been running perhaps three hours when he concluded to stop in a thicket, where he lay down on the damp grass, and rested with his head under his arm.
His breath had been coming a little faster, but his heart now resumed its regular beat.Then he heard a soft sound, that of footsteps.He thought at first that some wild animal was prowling near, but second thought convinced him that human beings had come.Gazing through the thicket, he saw an Indian warrior walking among the trees, looking searchingly about him as if he were a scout.Another, coming from a different direction, approached him, and Henry felt sure that they were of the party of Timmendiquas.They had followed him in some manner, perhaps by chance, and it behooved Mm now to lie close.
A third warrior joined them and they began to examine the ground.
Henry realized that it was much lighter.Keen eyes under such a starry sky could see much, and they might strike his trail.The fear quickly became fact.One of the warriors, uttering a short cry, raised his head and beckoned to the others.He had seen broken twigs or trampled grass, and Henry, knowing that it was no time to hesitate, sprang from his covert.Two of the warriors caught a glimpse of his dusky figure and fired, the bullets cutting the leaves close to his head, but Henry ran so fast that he was lost to view in an instant.
The boy was conscious that his position contained many elements of danger.He was about to have another example of the tenacity and resource of the great young chief of the Wyandots, and he felt a certain anger.He, did not wish to be disturbed in his plans, he wished to rejoin his comrades and move farther east toward the chosen lands of the Six Nations; instead, he must spend precious moments running for his life.
Henry did not now flee toward the camp of his friends.He was too wise, too unselfish, to bring a horde down upon them, and he curved away in a course that would take him to the south of them.
He glanced up and saw that the heavens were lightening yet more.
