. He led them
through bushes and weeds and grass and across the little brooks. Always
the others followed, and no sound whatever came from the file of seven
which was really the file of eight.

The seven heralds traveled all night and all of the next day, always
through forest, and at no time was the eighth figure in the file more
than four hundred yards behind them.

The Indian, through centuries of forest life, had gifts of insight and
of physical faculties amounting to a sixth sense, yet the keenest among
them never suspected, for an instant, that they were eight and not
seven. At noon they sat down in the dry grass of a tiny prairie and ate
dried deer meat. Henry, in the edge of the woods a quarter of a mile
away, also ate dried deer meat. When the seven finished their food and
resumed the march the eighth at the same time finished his food and
resumed the march. Nothing told the seven that the eighth was there, no
voice of the wood, no whisper from Manitou.

The stop had not lasted more than half an hour and the journey led on
through great forests, broken only by tiny prairies. Game abounded
everywhere, and Henry judged that the Indians, according to the custom
among some of the more advanced tribes, had not hunted over it for
several seasons, in order that it might have plenty when they came
again. Ten or a dozen buffaloes were grazing on nearly every little
prairie, splendid deer were in the open and in the woods, but the seven
and also the eighth stopped for none of these, although they would have
been sorely tempted at any other time.

Their speed was undiminished throughout the afternoon, but Henry knew
that they must camp that night. They could not go on forever, and he
could secure, too, the rest that he needed. It might also give him the
chance to do what he wished to do. At least he would have time to plan.

In the late afternoon the character of the day changed. The sun set in a
mackerel sky. A soft wind came moaning out of the Southwest, and drops
of rain were borne on its edge. Darkness shut down close and heavy. No
moon and no stars came out. The rain fell gently, softly, almost as if
it were ashamed, and the voice of the wind was humble and low.

Chaska, Blackstaffe and their men stopped under the interlacing boughs
of two giant oaks, and began to collect firewood. Henry, who had been
able to come much nearer in the dark, knew then that they would remain
there a long time, probably all night, a