was a man of massive features and grave demeanor, one of the
great Indian chiefs who, their circumstances considered, were inferior
in intellectual power to nobody. Henry watched him as he sat now with
his legs crossed and arms folded, staring into the flames. He was a
picturesque figure, and he looked the warlike sage, as he sat there
brooding. The little feathers in his scalplock were dyed red, his
leggings and moccasins were of the same color, and a blanket of the
finest red cloth was draped about his shoulders like a Roman toga. He
was a man to arouse interest, respect and even admiration.

Red Eagle did not speak until the strips of meat were cooked and eaten
and all were sitting about the fire, when he arose and addressed them in
a slow, solemn and weighty manner. Henry would have given much to
understand the words, as he believed they referred to the five and might
tell the chief's plans, but he was too far away to hear anything except
a murmur that meant nothing.

He saw, however, that Red Eagle was intensely earnest, and that the
warriors listened with fixed attention, hanging on every word and
watching his face. Their only interruptions were exclamations of
approval now and then, and, when he finished and sat down, all together
uttered the same deep notes. Then eight of the warriors arose, and to
Henry's great surprise, came back on the trail.

He recognized at once that a sudden danger had presented itself. The
Shawnees would presently find his trail mingled with theirs, and they
were sure to give immediate pursuit. He thrust himself back into the
bushes, crawled a hundred yards or so, then rose and ran, curving about
the fire and passing to the eastward of it. Three hundred yards, and he
sank down again, listening. A single fierce shout came from the portion
of the band that had turned back. He understood. They had come upon his
trail, and in another minute Red Eagle would organize a pursuit by all
the warriors, a pursuit that would hang on through everything.

Henry, knowing well the formidable nature of the danger, felt,
nevertheless, no dismay. He had matched himself against the warriors
many times, and he was ready to do so once more. He swung into the long
frontier run that not even the Indians themselves could match in speed
and ease.

It was characteristic of him that he did not turn toward the swamp, in
which he could speedily have found refuge. Instead, wishing to draw the
enemy away from his