alone in the wilderness and without arms. What a ship is to the sailor,
so the rifle was to the borderer. It was his meat and drink, his
defense, his armor, his truest and trustiest comrade; without it he must
surely perish, unless some rare chance aided him, as once in a thousand
times the shipwrecked sailor reaches the lone island.

Henry knew that he was a long distance from the Ohio, and it would be
difficult to locate the fleet. It would have to move slowly, and it may
have tied up several times for weather.

He floated two or three hundred yards further, and then at a dip in the
bank he emerged, the water running in streams from his clothing. He
stood there a minute or two, watching and listening, but nothing
alarming came to his eye or ear. Perhaps he had shaken off the Wyandots,
but he was far too well versed in forest cunning and patience to take it
for granted. He was about to start again when he felt a little pain in
his side. He remembered now the light impact as if a pebble had struck
him, and he knew that the wound had been caused by a bullet. But no
blood was there. It had all been washed away by the waters of the creek.
The cold stream, moreover, had been good for the wound.

He lifted his wet clothing and examined his hurt critically. It might be
serious. It would certainly weaken him after a few hours, although the
bullet had passed through the flesh, and a few hours now were more
precious to him than weeks later. But his pride and joy in life were not
yet diminished. He was free and he would not be re-taken. The country
around him was as beautiful as any that he had ever seen. The banks of
the creek were high and rocky, and its waters were very clear. Splendid
forests swept away from either side, and on one far horizon showed the
faint line of blue hills. The sun was still shining bright and warm.

He re-entered the forest, continuing his flight toward the southeast,
and swung along at a good pace. Exercise restored the warmth to his body
and also brought with it now and then the little stitch in his side. His
clothing gradually dried upon him, and he did not cease his long, easy
trot until he noticed that the sun was far down in the west. It had
already taken on the fiery red tint that marks it when it goes, and in
the east gray shadows were coming.

Henry believed that he had shaken off the pursuit for good now, and he
sat down upon a log to rest. Then a sudden great weakness came over him.
The