ted coat and luxuriated. At
intervals he heard the warriors calling in the valley, and once the
sound of footsteps not more than twenty yards away reached him, but he
was not disturbed. The chance that they would stumble upon him was still
only one in a thousand.

He remained at least four hours in the bushes, and throughout that time
he scarcely moved, having acquired the forest art of keeping perfectly
still when there was nothing to be done. Then he saw the fog thinning
somewhat, but he was completely restored. Youth had its way. His nerves
and muscles were as strong as ever, and the great mental elation had
returned. Why not? It was obvious that he was protected by the supreme
powers. Miracle after miracle had occurred in his behalf. They had sent
the wolves just in time, and then they had drawn the fog from the earth,
hiding him from the warriors and giving him a covert in which he could
lie until his strength was restored.

He rose now and began his cautious passage through the white veil over
the hills. The fog was not lifting yet, but it was continuing to thin.
He could see in it ten or fifteen feet, and he was not sorry, as the
distance was enough for the choosing of a path, but not enough for the
warriors to come within sight of him before they were heard.

Twice, the sounds of the searching warriors came to him, but each time
he lay in the bush until they passed, when he would rise and continue
his judicious flight.

Near the close of the day, and going toward the northeast, he was far
from the valley, but obviously was coming to another, as the hills were
sinking fast and he saw the tops of trees below him. The fog had been
thinning until it was mere wisps and tatters, and now a smart wind
seizing all these remnants whirled them off to the east, leaving a
glorious clear sky, suffused in the west with the red and gold of the
setting sun, a deep brilliant light that touched the whole horizon with
fire.

Henry looked upon it and worshiped. He worshiped like a forest runner
and a man of the old, old time, when nothing of heaven or of religion
was revealed. He worshiped like an Indian to whom, as to many other
races, the sun was a symbol of warmth, of light and life, almost the
same as Manitou, that is to say, almost the same as God. Nor did he
forget to be grateful once more. It was not for any merit of his that
protection had been given to him so often, but because he was an
instrument in a good purpose.