intention was to rouse them and plunge into the woods again, but
a few minutes served to make him cooler and more collected in mind.

The night was well spent, and a flight of that kind could not do
much for them. It might be all in vain. It would be trying to the
last degree. He decided not to disturb the sleepers.

By and by he persuaded himself that matters were not as bad as they
first appeared. Inasmuch as the fugitives had not returned over
their own trail, the Indians, in case they took it in the morning,
must make the same circuit, and thus be forced to go just as far
as if the flight had been in a direct line.

It was a mystery, however, what had become of the three warriors.
They could not be near the camp, or they would have appeared when
the lad returned to it. They had left, but who could say whither
they had gone?

While Ben was debating the painful question, a growing light in
the direction of the Delaware told him the night was ended and the
new day dawning.

The fourth day of July, the second anniversary of the Declaration
of Independence, had passed. He thought of it, standing alone in
the dismal forest with danger on every hand, and oppressed by the
great fear that those whom he loved more than his own life must
perish in that gloomy wilderness.

He did not dare, however, to give way to his sad thoughts. At the
first streakings of light among the trees, he roused his mother