It was while he was looking,
absorbed in such feelings, that the warrior of the alert eye saw
him and gave the warning shout.
Henry turned in an instant, and darted away among the trees, half
running, half sliding over the smooth, icy covering of the snow.
After him came warriors and some Tories who had put on their
snowshoes preparatory to the search through the forest for
shelter. Several bullets were fired, but he was too far away for
a good aim. He heard one go zip against a tree, and another cut
the surface of the ice near him, but none touched him, and he
sped easily on his snowshoes through the frozen forest. But
Henry was fully aware of one thing that constituted his greatest
danger. Many of these Iroquois had been trained all their lives
to snowshoes, while he, however powerful and agile, was
comparatively a beginner. He glanced back again and saw their
dusky figures running among the trees, but they did not seem to
be gaining. If one should draw too near, there was his rifle,
and no man, white or red, in the northern or southern forests,
could use it better. But for the present it was not needed. He
pressed it closely, almost lovingly, to his side, this best
friend of the scout and frontiersman.
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