"
He wrung their hands one by one, and then revolved swiftly away
to hide his emotion.
The five, rifles on their shoulders, started through the forest.
When they looked back they saw Cornelius Heemskerk waving his
hand to them. They waved in return, and then disappeared in the
forest. It was a long journey to Pittsburgh, but they found it a
pleasant one. It was yet deep autumn on the Pennsylvania hills,
and the forest was glowing with scarlet and gold. The air was
the very wine of life, and when they needed game it was there to
be shot. As the cold weather hung off, they did not hurry, and
they enjoyed the peace of the forest. They realized now that
after their vast labors, hardships, and dangers, they needed a
great rest, and they took it. It was singular, and perhaps not
so singular, how their minds turned from battle, pursuit, and
escape, to gentle things. A little brook or fountain pleased
them. They admired the magnificent colors of the foliage, and
lingered over the views from the low mountains. Doe and fawn
fled from them, but without cause. At night they built splendid
fires, and sat before them, while everyone in his turn told tales
according to his nature or experience.
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