time at the line, and he saw that no human
being, no matter how great his strength and dexterity, could reach the
end of it. It was at least a quarter of a mile in length, and long
before he was half way he would be beaten to the earth, limbs broken.
They had not intended that he should have the remotest chance of escape.
Nor, look as he would, could he see any.

Hark! What was that? It was a sound from the forest, a low, sweet note,
but clear and penetrating, the wind among the leaves, the voice, almost
human, that told him to be of good faith, that even yet in the face of
imminent death he would escape. It was no longer an ordinary wind
blowing through the wilderness; it was some voice out of space, speaking
to him. White Lightning saw the face of his prisoner suddenly illumined,
and he wondered.

Henry looked down the line for the fourth time, and then the way came to
him. He knew what to do, and he drew himself together, a compact mass of
muscles, and tense like steel wire. Then, while the clear song from the
forest still sang in his ear, he glanced up once more at the beneficent
heavens, and uttered his wordless prayer:

"O Lord, Thou who art the God of the white man and the Manitou of the
red man, give me this day a strength such as I have never known before!
Give me an eye quick to see and a hand ready to do! I would live. I love
life, but it is not for myself alone that I ask the gift! There are
others who need me, and I would go to them! Now, O Lord, abide with me!"

They were his thoughts, not his words, but he was the child of religious
parents, who had given him a religious training, and in the crisis he
remembered.

It was the duty of Timmendiquas to give the word, but he waited,
fascinated by the singular look on the face of the prisoner. He saw
confidence, exaltation there, and he still wondered. But the crowd was
growing impatient for its sport. They were bedecked in their gayest for
this holiday scene, and the size and obvious strength of the captive
indicated that it would be continued longer than common.

Timmendiquas glanced at the prisoner again, and for an instant the eyes
of the two met. The chief saw purpose written deep in the mind of the
other, and Henry caught the fleeting glimpse of sympathy that he had
noticed more than once before.

"Are you ready?" asked Timmendiquas in tones so low that no one else
could hear.

"Ready!" replied Henry as low.

"Go!" called Timmendiquas. His voi