e faces of the Indians and he rejoiced. He
was sorry that he had not seen Braxton Wyatt and Blackstaffe too. Their
minds were less subject to superstition than those of the red men, but
no doubt in the first minute or two they were frightened also if they
saw him.

Yet he believed that the renegades would arouse the Indians and perhaps
would suspect that the terrific stranger, who had come and departed so
mysteriously, was none other than the fugitive himself. He did not care
if they did; in truth, he rather hoped they would. He could imagine
their mortification and disappointment, and since they had gone to dwell
with strangers and fight their own people, it was only a fraction of
what they deserved.

The great headdress of twisted buffalo horns was heavy and the big
painted buffalo coat flapped around him, but he would not discard them
yet. Stray warriors might be in the forest near the village, and, if so,
he wished to reserve for them his awful and threatening appearance. But
he could not stand them more than a mile. Then he threw the headdress
into a creek, hoping that it would float away with the current, but,
thinking he would have further use for it, he kept the painted coat.
Then he crossed the creek and resumed his northward flight at great
speed.

He did not stop until dawn, when he felt that he was safe, for a day at
least, from pursuit. He had brought with him what was left of the deer
meat, and, sitting down by the bank of a small brook, he ate, drinking
afterward of the clear stream and giving thanks. He had been saved again
in a miraculous manner. When skill and strength themselves would have
been of no avail, fortune had put the council house and the ceremonial
robes in his way. He could not doubt that the greater powers were
working in his behalf, and he felt all the elation that comes from the
assurance of continued victory.

But it was a bleak dawn. A cold sun was rising in a cold, blue sky.
There was no snow now, but the dry grass was white with frost, and
whenever the wind stirred a little, the dead leaves fell with a dry
rustle. He retreated deeper into the thicket, and he was glad that he
had kept the great painted coat, as he wrapped himself in it from head
to foot and lay down between two fallen logs, with the dense bushes over
his head.

He must find another interval of rest and sleep, and feeling that his
best chance lay here, he drew the coat very close. It kept him
thoroughly warm, a