ll his wisdom had been sure was dead,
had played a cruel joke upon him.

Henry Ware laughed joyously, and turned into a more comfortable position
upon the leaves. He was not in his normal frame of mind, or so small an
incident would not have caused him so much mirth. But it brought back
the divine spark of courage which so seldom died within him. Unarmed as
he was, he was not without resources, and he had driven off the wolves.
He would find a way for other things.

The wind began to blow gently and beneficently, and the murmur of it
among the leaves came to him. He interpreted it instantly as the
wilderness voice that, calling to him more than once in his most
desperate straits, had told him to have faith and hope. He fell asleep
to its music and slept soundly all through the night.

He awoke the next morning after the coming of the daylight, and sprang
to his feet. The sudden movement caused a slight pain in his side, but
he knew now that the wound was not serious. Had it been so it would have
stiffened in the night, and he would now be feverish, but he felt
strong, and his head was clear and cool. Another proof of his healthy
condition was the fierce hunger that soon assailed him. A powerful body
was demanding food, the furnace needed coal, and there was no way just
yet to supply it. This was the vital question to him, but he took
wilderness precautions before undertaking to solve it.

He made a little circle, searching the forest with eye and ear, but he
found no sign that the Wyandots were near. He did not believe that they
had given up the pursuit, but he was quite sure that they had not been
able to find his last trail in the night. When he had satisfied himself
upon this point, he washed his wound carefully in the waters of a brook,
and bound upon it a poultice of leaves, the use of which he had learned
among the Indians. Then he thought little more about it. He was so
thoroughly inured to hardship that it would heal quickly.

Now for food, food which he must take with his bare hands. It was not
late enough in the year for the ripening of wild fruits and for nuts,
but he had his mind upon blackberries. Therefore he sought openings,
knowing that they would not grow in the shade of the great trees, and
after more than an hour's hunting he found a clump of the blackberry
briars, loaded with berries, magnificent, large, black, and fairly
crammed with sweetness.

Henry was fastidious. He had not tasted food for