He knew that both were caused by the sweep of the mighty Mississippi
which was near at hand. The reason for the first he could not
understand, but that of the latter was apparent. He had never
looked upon the Father of Waters, but many a time he had rested
along the Ohio and been lulled to sleep by its musical flow, even
while the camp-fires of the hostile red men twinkled on the other
shore.

Manifestly nothing could be done by remaining where he was, and, in
the same guarded manner in which he left the trail a half hour
before, he began picking his way back. Probably he ran greater
personal risk in following the beaten path, yet he was controlled by
a true hunter's instinct in every movement made.

When he reached the trail, he observed that not only had the night
descended, but the full moon was shining from an almost unclouded
sky. The trees, crowned with exuberant vegetation, cast deep
shadows, like those of the electric light, and only here and there
did the arrowy moonbeams strike the ground, redolent with the odors
of fresh earth and moldering leaves.

"Some of the warriors may be returning or groping along the trail,"
was the thought of the youth, who glided silently forward, his
senses on the alert. His misgivings, however, were much less than
when watching the two Shawanoes, for with the dense gloom of the
forest inclosing him on every hand, he felt that the shelter was not
only secure but was of instant avail.

Less than a furlong was passed, when he caught the shimmering of