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.
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