n the olden time.

As he had foreseen, the chilling rain fell all day long, and no sign
came from his pursuers. The valley grew sodden. He saw pools standing in
low places, and cold vapors arose. At night he ate the last of the
turkey, and, resolutely dismissing the question of more food from his
mind for the time, fell asleep again and slept well.

The second dawn came, clear and cool, and the foliage and the earth
dried rapidly under the bright sun. Henry's powerful frame craved
breakfast but there was none, and, from necessity, he made up his mind
to do without, as long as he could. But the cravings became so strong by
noon that he stole out to the blackberry briars and ate his fill of the
berries. He also found some ripening wild plums and ate those, too.
Fruit alone was not very staying and he also saw the risk of disclosing
his trail, but he felt that he must have it. One might talk lightly of
enduring hunger, but to endure it was much harder. If he only had two or
three more wild turkeys he felt that he might defy the siege.

That afternoon he heard the signals of Indians, showing that they were
in the maze, looking for him. They imitated the cries of birds and
animals, but they did not deceive him a single time. None was nearer
than a quarter of a mile, and he was sure that they had a long hunt
before them. Then he resolved upon a daring venture. If the coming night
was dark he would make the Indians themselves provide him with food. It
was tremendously risky, but the kind of life he lived was full of such
risks.

His plan in mind, he watched the setting of the sun. It had mists and
vapors around it, and he knew that he was about to have what he wished.
Then the night settled down, heavy and dark, and he slipped cautiously
from his lair. The last signal that he had heard came from the south and
he advanced in that direction.

He calculated that boldness, as usual, might win. The warriors, daring
themselves, nevertheless would not dream of an inroad upon them by the
fugitive himself, and were likely to be careless in their night camp. It
was possible that they would leave their own food where he could reach
it unseen.

His progress was slow, owing to the extremely rough and broken nature of
the ground, and his own great caution, a caution that made no sound, and
that left no trail, as he always walked on rock. In an hour he saw the
glimmer of a fire, and then he redoubled his caution, as he approached.