It was that of the savages, and Henry instinctively
divined the cause. A party of the warriors had come somehow upon
his trail, and they would surely follow it. It was a mischance
that he had not expected. He waited a minute or two, and then
heard the cry again, but nearer. He knew that it would come no
more, but it confirmed him in his first opinion.
Henry had little fear of being caught, as the islet was so
securely hidden, but he did not wish to take even a remote chance
of its discovery. Hence he ran to the eastward of it, intending
as the darkness came, hiding his trail, to double back and regain
the hut.
He proceeded at a long, easy gait, his mind not troubled by the
pursuit. It was to him merely an incident that should be ended
as soon as possible, annoying perhaps, but easily cured. So he
swung lightly along, stopping at intervals among the bushes to
see if any of the warriors had drawn near, but he detected
nothing. Now and then he looked up to the sky, willing that
night should end this matter quickly and peacefully.
His wish seemed near fulfillment. An uncommonly brilliant sun
was setting. The whole west was a sea of red and yellow fire,
but in the east the forest was already sinking into the dark.
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