as his rifle, and no man, white or red,
in the northern or southern forests, could use it better. But for the
present it was not needed. He pressed it closely, almost lovingly, to
his side, this best friend of the scout and frontiersman.

He had chosen his course at the first leap. It was southward, toward
the lake, and he did not make the mistake of diverging from his line,
knowing that some part of the wide half circle of his pursuers would
profit by it.

Henry felt a great upward surge. He had been the victor in what he
meant to achieve, and he was sure that he would escape. The cold wind,
whistling by, whipped his blood and added new strength to his great
muscles. His ankles were not chafed or sore, and he sped forward on the
snowshoes, straight and true. Whenever he came to a hill the pursuers
would gain as he went up it, but when he went down the other side it
was he who gained. He passed brooks, creeks, and once a small river,
but they were frozen over, many inches deep, and he did not notice them.
Again it was a lake a mile wide, but the smooth surface there merely
increased his speed. Always he kept a wary look ahead for thickets
through which he could not pass easily, and once he sent back a shout of
defiance, which the Iroquois answered with a yell of anger.

He was fully aware that any accident to his snowshoes would prove fatal,
the slipping of the thongs on his ankles or the breaking of a runner
would end his flight, and in a long chase such an accident might happen.
It might happen, too, to one or more of the Iroquois, but plenty of them
would be left. Yet Henry had supreme confidence in his snowshoes. He had
made them himself, he had seen that every part was good, and every thong
had been fastened with care.

The wind which bad been roaring so loudly at the time of the fire sank
to nothing. The leafless trees stood up, the branches unmoving. The
forest was bare and deserted. All the animals, big and little, had gone
into their lairs. Nobody witnessed the great pursuit save pursuers and
pursued. Henry kept his direction clear in his mind, and allowed the
Iroquois to take no advantage of a curve save once. Then he came to a
thicket so large that he was compelled to make a considerable circle to
pass it. He turned to the right, hence the Indians on the right gained,
and they sent up a yell of delight. He replied defiantly and increased
his speed.

But one of the Indians, a flying Mohawk, had come dange