ther coming by, cool and fresh, found fault with his work, chiefly to
show his authority, because the work was not badly done--Mr. Ware was a
good man, but like other good men he had a rare fault-finding impulse.
The voices in the woods had been calling very loudly that day and
Henry's temper suddenly flashed into a flame. But he did not give way to
any external outburst of passion, speaking in a level, measured voice.

"I am sorry you do not like it," he said, "because it is the last work I
am going to do here."

"Why--what do you mean?" exclaimed his father in astonishment.

"I am done," replied Henry in his firm tones, and dropping the fence
rail that he held he walked to the house, every nerve in him thrilling
with expectation of the pleasure that was to come. His mother was there,
and she started in fear at his face.

"It is true, mother," he said, "I am not going to deceive you, I am
going into the forest, but I will come again and often. It is the only
life that I can lead, I was made for it I suppose; I have tried the
other out there in the fields, and I have tried hard, but I cannot stand
it."

She knew too well to seek to stop him. He took his rifle from its
secluded corner, and the feeling of it, stock and barrel, was good to
his hands. He put on the buckskin hunting shirt, leggings and moccasins,
fringed and beaded, and with them he felt all his old zest and pride
returning. He kissed his mother and sister good-by, shook hands with his
younger brother, did the same with his astonished father at the door,
and then, rifle on shoulder, disappeared in the circling forest.

That night Braxton Wyatt sneered and said that a savage could not keep
from being a savage, but Paul Cotter turned upon him so fiercely that he
took it back. The schoolmaster made no comment aloud, but to himself he
said, "It was bound to come and perhaps it is no loss that it has come."

Meanwhile Henry Ware was tasting the fiercest and keenest joy of his
life. The great forest seemed to reach out its boughs like kind arms to
welcome and embrace. How cool was the shade! How the shafts of sunlight
piercing the leaves fell like golden arrows on the ground! How the
little brooks laughed and danced over the pebbles! This was his world
and he had been too long away from it. Everything was friendly, the huge
tree trunks were like old comrades, the air was fresher and keener than
any that he had breathed in a long time, and was full of new lif