e thickets, too, were holding out, and their
pursuers were not now in sight. They continued thus for a half hour
more, and the blessed clouds, not clouds of rain, but clouds of mists
and vapors, were increasing. The moon had become but a dim circle and
the last reluctant star was going. The forest was full of shadows. Henry
turned once more to Paul, whose breath he could hear coming in gasps.

"Turn north, Paul," he said. "They will follow us and they will miss you
in the darkness and these thickets. Hide in some good place and we'll
come back for you."

He held out his hand, Paul gave it one clasp, and turned away at a sharp
angle. He ran northward while the pursuit rushed past him, and then he
fell down in a thicket, where he lay panting.

The four, who had been a few minutes before the five, kept on, saying
nothing, but all thinking of Paul. They had not deserted him. It was in
the compact that even one should continue as long as he could. They
would return for him. But would any one live to come back?

The way grew rougher. Once, as they crossed a hill, they were outlined
for a moment on its crest, and a half dozen shots were fired by the
pursuers. Long Jim checked an exclamation, but Shif'less Sol heard the
slight sound.

"What is it, Jim?" he asked.

"Nuthin'," replied Long Jim, "'cept I stumbled a little. Them must be
Wyandots an' Shawnees follerin' us, Sol, from the way they hang on."

"It don't make much difference what they are so long ez they don't
quit."

The four went on now with measured tread under the dusky heavens, over
hillocks, down little valleys, and across brooks, which they leaped with
flying feet. It seemed that they would never tire, but the trained
warriors behind them were no less enduring. Once, twice, thrice they
caught sight of them, and when a longer period of invisibility passed
they knew, nevertheless, that they were still there. Now Long Jim
suddenly wavered, but gathered himself together in an instant and
continued his long leaps. Henry glanced at him and saw a patch of red on
the sleeve of his buckskin hunting shirt.

"You've been hit, Jim," he said.

"It's nuthin'," said Long Jim doggedly, but he staggered again as he
spoke.

"Turn to the north, Jim," said Henry sharply. "We'll come for you, too!"

Long Jim lifted a face of agony to the heavens. It was not agony of the
body, but agony of the spirit, because he could not go on with the
others.

"Go, Jim, while they ca