on for the time many of the qualities that he had learned from his Indian
captors. Every sense was alert, attuned to hear the slightest sound that
might come from the forest, to feel, in fact, any alien presence as it
drew near.

When the store of water was secure he looked at their provisions. They had
enough venison in their knapsacks to last a day or two, but he believed
that Paul would need better and tenderer food. The question, however, must
wait a while.

The day was now almost gone. Great shadows hovered over the eastern
forest, and in the west the sun glowed in its deepest red as it prepared
to go. Henry put his hand upon Paul's forehead again. The perspiration was
still coming, but the fever was now wholly gone. Then he took his rifle
and went to the door. He stood there a moment, a black figure in the red
light of the setting sun. Then he slid noiselessly into the forest. The
twilight had deepened, the red sun had set, and only a red cloud in the
sky marked its going. But Henry Ware's eyes pierced the shadows, and none
in the forest could have keener ears than his. He made a wide circle
around the cabin, and found only silence and peace. Here and there were
tracks and traces of wild animals, but they would not disturb; it was for
something else that he looked, and he rejoiced that he could not find it.
When he returned to the cabin the last fringe of the red cloud was gone
from the sky, and black darkness was sweeping down over the earth. He
secured the door, looked again to the fastenings of the window, and then
sat down before the fire, his rifle between his knees.

Paul's slumber and exhaustion alike were so deep that he would not be
likely to waken before morning, so Henry judged, and presently he took out
a little of the dried venison and ate it. He would boil some of it in the