any battles
in which he had borne his share, and up to those mighty lakes of which
he had often heard, but which he had never seen.

The moonlight brightened again, clothing all the forest and river in a
veil of silver gauze. It was inexpressibly beautiful to Henry who, like
the Indians, beheld with awe and admiration the work of Manitou.

A light sound, not in unison with the note of the forest, came from the
bank above. It was very faint, nothing more than the momentary
displacement of a bough, but the crouching figure in the boat moved ever
so slightly, and then was still. The sound was repeated once and no
more, but Henry's mind ceased to roam afar. The great river that he had
seen and the great lakes that he had not seen were forgotten. With all
the power of his marvelous gift he was concentrating his faculties upon
the point from which the discord had come once, twice and then no more.
Eye, ear and something greater--divination, almost--were bent upon it.

He listened several minutes, but the sound did not come a third time.
Forest and river were singing together again, but Henry was not
satisfied. He rose to his feet, laid the blanket softly in the boat, and
then with a glance at the river to see that nothing was passing there,
leaped lightly to the land.

The bank rose above him to a height of thirty feet, but the bushes were
thick along its face, and the active youth climbed easily and without
noise. Before he reached the crest he flattened himself against the
earth and listened. He was quite confident that someone had been passing
and was, perhaps, very near. He was too good a forester to ignore the
event. He heard nothing and then drew himself up cautiously over the
edge of the cliff.

He saw before him thick forest, so heavy and dark that the moon did not
light it up. An ordinary scout or sentinel would have turned back,
satisfied that nothing was to be found, but Henry entered the woods and
proceeded carefully in the direction from which the sound had come. He
soon saw faint signs of a trail, evidently running parallel with the
river, and, used from time to time, by the Indians. Now Henry was
satisfied that his senses had not deceived him, and he would discover
who had passed. He judged by the difference between the first and second
sounds that the journey was leading northward, and he followed along the
trail. He had an idea that it would soon lead him to a camp, and he
reckoned right, because in a fe