s they paused a few moments and looked back, a great cry burst from
the weakest of the women and children. Then it became a sad and terrible
wail, and it was a long time before it ceased. It was an awful sound, so
compounded of despair and woe and of longing for what they had lost that
Henry choked, and the tears stood in Paul's eyes. But neither the five
nor Carpenter made any attempt to check the wailing. They thought it
best for them to weep it out, but they hurried the column as much as
they could, often carrying some of the smaller children themselves. Paul
and Long Jim were the best as comforters. The two knew how, each in his
own way, to soothe and encourage. Carpenter, who knew the way to Fort
Penn, led doggedly on, scarcely saying a word. Henry, Shif'less Sol, and
Tom were the rear guard, which was, in this case, the one of greatest
danger and responsibility.

Henry was thankful that it was only early summer the Fourth of July,
the second anniversary of the Declaration of Independence-and that the
foliage was heavy and green on the slopes of the mountain. In this
mass of greenery the desolate column was now completely hidden from any
observer in the valley, and he believed that other crowds of fugitives
would be hidden in the same manner. He felt sure that no living human
being would be left in the valley, that it would be ravaged from end to
end and then left to desolation, until new people, protected by American
bayonets, should come in and settle it again.

At last they passed the crest of the ridge, and the fires in the valley,
those emblems of destruction, were hidden. Between them and Fort Penn,
sixty miles away, stretched a wilderness of mountain, forest, and swamp.
But the five welcomed the forest. A foe might lie there in ambush, but
they could not see the fugitives at a distance. What the latter needed
now was obscurity, the green blanket of the forest to hide them.
Carpenter led on over a narrow trail; the others followed almost in
single file now, while the five scouted in the woods on either flank and
at the rear. Henry and Shif'less Sol generally kept together, and they
fully realized the overwhelming danger should an Indian band, even as
small as ten or a dozen warriors, appear. Should the latter scatter,
it would be impossible to protect all the women and children from their
tomahawks.

The day was warm, but the forest gave them coolness as well as shelter.
Henry and Sol were seldom so far bac