ghty inland sea in his light canoe, and
doubtless the chiefs and the renegades, unable to follow his trail by
water, where he left no trail at all, would give up at last, and hope
for more success another time.

So believing, and confident in his belief, he looked around for a
temporary home, and marked a low island lying out about five miles from
the shore. The five had found good refuge on an island once before, and
he alone might do it again, and lie hidden there, until all danger from
the great hunt had passed.

He acted with his usual boldness and decision, and paddled with a strong
arm toward the island which seemed to be about a mile each way and was a
mass of dense forest. His canoe rocked on the waves, which were running
high before the wind, but he came without mishap to the island, and,
pushing his canoe through thickets of reeds and willows, landed.

Leaving the canoe well hidden, he examined the island and was well
pleased with it, as it seemed to be suited admirably to his purpose. The
forest was unbroken and very dense. Probably human beings never came
there, as the game seemed very tame. Two or three deer looked at him
with mild, inquiring eyes before they moved slowly away, and he saw
where wild turkey roosted in numbers at night.

In the center of the island was a small dip, where only bushes grew, and
he decided that he would make his camp there, as the great height of the
trees surrounding it would hide the smoke that might arise from his
subdued campfire. But he did no work that day, as he wished to be sure
that his passage to the island had not been observed by any wandering
warriors on the mainland. There was no sign of pursuit, and he knew now
that fortune had favored him again.

He slept the night through in the canoe, and the next morning he set to
work with his hatchet to make a bush shelter for himself, a task that
took two days and which he finished just in time, as a fierce wind with
hail swept over the island and the lake. He had removed all his supplies
from the canoe to the hut, and, wrapped in the painted robe, he watched
hail and wind beat upon the surface of the lake, until it drove in high
waves like the sea. There was no danger of warriors trying the passage
to the island in such weather, and his look was that of a spectator not
that of a sentinel. The great nervous strain of the long flight, and its
many and deadly perils, had passed, and he found a pleasure in watching
the tu