He heard the two men crashing on ahead and once or twice he caught
glimpses of them. Then he knew by the sounds of the hoofs that they
were separating, and he followed the one who was bearing to the left,
keeping a wary watch from side to side, lest others overhaul him.

In those moments of danger and daring enterprise the spirit of Harry's
great ancestor descended upon him again. This flight through the forest
and hiding among bushes and gulleys was more like the early days of the
border than those of the great civil war in which he was now a young
soldier.

Instincts and perceptions, atrophied by civilization, suddenly sprang
up. He seemed to be able to read every sound. Not a whisper in the
forest escaped his understanding, and this sudden flame of a great early
life put into him new thoughts and a new intelligence.

Now a plan, astonishing in its boldness, formed itself in his mind.
He saw through openings in the trees that the forest did not extend much
farther, and he also saw not far ahead of him the single horseman whom
he was following. The man had slowed down and was looking about as if
puzzled. He rode a powerful horse that seemed but little wearied by the
pursuit.

Harry picked up a long fragment of a fallen bough, and he ran toward
the horseman, springing from the shelter of one tree trunk to that of
another with all the deftness of a primitive Wyandot. He was almost
upon the rider before the man turned with a startled exclamation.

Then Harry struck, and his was no light hand. The end of the stick
met the man's head, and without a sound he rolled unconscious from the