"The big war band is not far away," said Henry, "and it's likely that
they've heard my shot. It would carry far on such a still, clear morning
as this. I didn't want them to hear it."

"But I'm glad you did shoot," said Paul. "It was a mighty welcome sound to
me."

"Yes," said Henry, with grim humor, "it was the right thing at the right
time. Hark to that!" A single note, very faint and very far, rose and was
quickly gone, like the dying echo of music. Only the trained ranger of the
wilderness would have noticed it at all, but Henry Ware knew.

"Yes, they've heard," he said, "and they're telling it to each other. They
are also telling it to us. They're between us and Marlowe, and they are
between us and Wareville, so we must run to the north, and run as fast as
we can."

He led the way with swift, light footsteps through the forest, and Paul
followed close behind, each boy carrying on his shoulder two rifles and at
his waist a double stock of bullets and powder.

Paul scarcely felt any fear now for the future. The revulsion from the
stake and torture was so great that it did not seem to him that he could
be taken again. Moreover, they had seized him the first time when he was
asleep. They had taken an unfair advantage.

The sun rose higher, gilding the brown forest with fine filmy gold, like a
veil, and the boys ran silently on among the trees and the undergrowth.
Behind them, and spread out like a fan, came many warriors, fierce for