to　the　hut；　and　slept　heavily　through　the　night。　　In　the　morning　he　left　the　islet　once　more　to　scout　in　the　direction　of　the　Indian　camp；　but　he　found　it　a　most　dangerous　task。　　The　woods　were　full　of　warriors　hunting。　　As　he　had　judged；　the　game　was　abundant；　and　he　heard　rifles　cracking　in　several　directions。　　　He　loitered；　therefore；　in　the　thickest　of　the　thickets；　willing　to　wait　until　night　came　for　his　enterprise。　　It　was　advisable；　moreover；　to　wait；　because　be　did　not　see　yet　just　how　he　was　going　to　succeed。　　He　spent　nearly　the　whole　day　shifting　here　and　there　through　the　forest；　but　late　in　the　afternoon；　as　the　Indians　yet　seemed　so　numerous　in　the　woods；　he　concluded　to　go　back　toward　the　islet。
  He　was　about　two　miles　from　the　swamp　when　he　heard　a　cry；　sharp　but　distant。　　It　was　that　of　the　savages；　and　Henry　instinctively　divined　the　cause。　　A　party　of　the　warriors　had　come　somehow　upon　his　trail；　and　they　would　surely　follow　it。　It　was　a　mischance　that　he　had　not　expected。　　He　waited　a　minute　or　two；　and　then　heard　the　cry　again；　but　nearer。　　He　knew　that　it　would　come　no　more；　but　it　confirmed　him　in　his　first　opinion。
  Henry　had　little　fear　of　being　caught；　as　the　islet　was　so　securely　hidden；　but　he　did　not　wish　to　take　even　a　remote　chance　of　its　discovery。　　Hence　he　ran　to　the　eastward　of　it；　intending　as　the　darkness　came；　hiding　his　trail；　to　double　back　and　regain　the　hut。
  He　proceeded　at　a　long；　easy　gait；　his　mind　not　troubled　by　the　pursuit。　　It　was　to　him　merely　an　incident　that　should　be　ended　as　soon　as　possible；　annoying　perhaps；　but　easily　cured。　　So　he　swung　lightly　along；　stopping　at　intervals　among　the　bushes　to　see　if　any　of　the　warriors　had　drawn　near；　but　he　detected　nothing。　　Now　and　then　he　looked　up　to　the　sky；　willing　that　night　should　end　this　matter　quickly　and　peacefully。
  His　wish　seemed　near　fulfillment。　　An　uncommonly　brilliant　sun　was　setting。　　The　whole　west　was　a　sea　of　red　and　yellow　fire；　but　in　the　east　the　forest　was　already　sinking　into　the　dark。　　He　turned　now；　and　went　back　toward　the　west　on　a　line　parallel　with　the　pursuit；　but　much　closer　to　the　swamp。　　The　dusk　thickened　rapidly。　　The　sun　dropped　over　the　curve　of　the　world；　and　the　vast　complex　maze　of　trunks　and　boughs　melted　into　a　solid　black　wall。　　The　incident　of　the　pursuit　was　over　and　with　it　its　petty　annoyances。　　He　directed　his　course　boldly　now　for　the　stepping　stones；　and　traveled　fast。　　Soon　the　first　of　them　would　be　less　than　a　hundred　yards　away。
  But　the　incident　was　not　over。　　Wary　and　skillful　though　the　young　forest　runner　might　be；　he　had　made　one　miscalculation；　and　it　led　to　great　consequences。　　As　he　skirted　the　edge　of　the　swamp　in　the　darkness；　now　fully　come；　a　dusky　figure　suddenly　appeared。　　It　was　a　stray　warrior　from　some　small　band；　wandering　about　at　will。　　The　meeting　was　probably　as　little　expected　by　him　as　it　was　by　Henry；　and　they　were　so　close　together　when　they　saw　each　other　that　neither　had　time　to　raise　his　rifle。　　The　warrior；　a　tall；　powerful　man；　dropping　his　gun　and　snatching　out　a　knife；　sprang　at　once　upon　his　enemy。
  Henry　was　borne　back　by　the　weight　and　impact；　but；　making　an　immense　effort；　he　recovered　himself　and；　seizing　the　wrist　of　the　Indian's　knife　hand；　exerted　all　his　great　strength。　　The　warrior　wished　to　change　the　weapon　from　his　right　band；　but　he　dared　not　let　go　with　the　other　lest　he　be　thrown　down　at　once；　and　with　great　violence。　　His　first　rush　having　failed；　he　was　now　at　a　disadvantage；　as　the　Indian　is　not　generally　a　wrestler。　　Henry　pushed　him　back；　and　his　hand　closed　tighter　and　tighter　around　the　red　wrist。　　He　wished　to　tear　the　knife　from　it；　but　he；　too；　was　afraid　to　let　go　with　the　other　hand；　and　so　the　two　remained　locked　fast。　　Neither　uttered　a　cry　after　the　first　contact；　and　the　only　sounds　in　the　dark　were　their　hard　breathing；　which　turned　to　a　gasp　now　and　then；　and　the　shuffle　of　their　feet　over　the　earth。
  Henry　felt　that　it　must　end　soon。　　One　or　the　other　must　give　way。　　Their　sinews　were　already　strained　to　the　cracking　point；　and　making　a　supreme　effort　he　bore　all　his　weight　upon　the　warrior；　who；　unable　to　sustain　himself；　went　down　with　the　youth　upon　him。　　The　Indian　uttered　a　groan；　and　Henry；　leaping　instantly　to　his　feet；　looked　down　upon　his　fallen　antagonist；　who　did　not　stir。　　He　knew　the　cause。　　As　they　fell　the　point　of　the　knife　bad　been　turned　upward；　and　it　had　entered　the　Indian's　heart。
  Although　he　had　been　in　peril　at　his　hands；　Henry　looked　at　the　slain　man　in　a　sort　of　pity。　　He　had　not　wished　to　take　anyone's　life；　and；　in　reality；　he　had　not　been　the　direct　cause　of　it。　　But　it　was　a　stern　time　and　the　feeling　soon　passed。　　The　Wyandot；　for　such　he　was　by　his　paint；　would　never　have　felt　a　particle　of　remorse　had　the　victory　been　his。
  The　moon　was　now　coming　out；　and　Henry　looked　down　thoughtfully　at　the　still　face。　　Then　the　idea　came　to　him；　in　fact　leaped　up　in　his　brain；　with　such　an　impulse　that　it　carried　conviction。　　He　would　take　this　warrior's　place　and　go　to　the　Indian　camp。　　So　eager　was　he；　and　so　full　of　his　plan；　that　he　did　not　feel　any　repulsion　as　he　opened　the　warrior's　deerskin　shirt　and　took　his　totem　from　a　place　near　his　heart。　　It　was　a　little　deerskin　bag　containing　a　bunch　of　red　feathers。　　This　was　his　charm；　his　magic　spell；　his　bringer　of　good　luck；　which　had　failed　him　so　woefully　this　time。　　Henry；　not　without　a　touch　of　the　forest　belief；　put　it　inside　his　own　hunting　shirt；　wishing；　although　he　laughed　at　himself；　that　if　the　red　man's　medicine　had　any　potency　it　should　be　on　his　own　side。
  Then　he　found　also　the　little　bag　in　which　the　Indian　carried　his　war　paint　and　the　feather　brush　with　which　he　put　it　on。　　The　next　hour　witnessed　a　singular　transformation。　　A　white　youth　was　turned　into　a　red　warrior。　　He　cut　his　own　hair　closely；　all　except　a　tuft　in　the　center；　with　his　sharp　hunting　knife。　　The　tuft　and　the　close　crop　he　stained　black　with　the　Indian's　paint。　　It　was　a　poor　black；　but　he　hoped　that　it　would　pass　in　the　night。　　He　drew　the　tuft　into　a　scalplock；　and　intertwined　it　with　a　feather　from　the　Indian's　own　tuft。　　Then　he　stained　his　face；　neck；　hands；　and　arms　with　the　red　paint；　and　stood　forth　a　powerful　young　warrior　of　a　western　nation。
  He　hid　the　Indian's　weapons　and　his　own　raccoon…skin　cap　in　the　brush。　　Then　he　took　the　body　of　the　fallen　warrior　to　the　edge　of　the　swamp　and　dropped　it　in。　　His　object　was　not　alone　concealment；　but　burial　as　well。　　He　still　felt　sorry　for　the　unfortunate　Wyandot；　and　he　watched　him　until　he　sank　completely　from　sight　in　the　mire。　　Then　he　turned　away　and　traveled　a　straight　course　toward　the　great　Indian　camp。
  He　stopped　once　on　the　way　at　a　clear　pool　irradiated　by　the　bright　moonlight；　and　looked　attentively　at　his　reflection。　　By　night；　at　least；　it　was　certainly　that　of　an　Indian；　and；　summoning　all　his　confidence；　he　continued　upon　his　chosen　and　desperate　task。
  Henry　knew　that　the　chances　were　against　him；　even　with　his　disguise；　but　he　was　bound　to　enter　the　Indian　camp；　and　he　was　prepared　to　incur　all　risks　and　to　endure　all　penalties。　　He　even　felt　a　certain　lightness　of　heart　as　he　hurried　on　his　way；　and　at　length　saw　through　the　forest　the　flare　of　light　from　the　Indian　camp。
  He　approached　cautiously　at　first　in　order　that　he　might　take　a　good　look　into　the　camp；　and　he　was　surprised　at　what　he　saw。　　In　a　single　day　the　village　had　been　enlarged　much　more。　　It　seemed　to　him　that　it　contained　at　least　twice　as　many　warriors。　　Women　and　children；　too；　had　come；　and　he　heard　a　stray　dog　barking　here　and　there。　　Many　more　fires　than　usual　were　burning；　and　there　was　a　great　murmur　of　voices。
  Henry　was　much　taken　aback　at　first。　　It　seemed　that　he　was　about　to　plunge　into　the　midst　of　the　whole　Iroquois　nation；　and　at　a　time；　too；　when　something　of　extreme　importance　was　going　on；　but　a　little　reflection　showed　that　he　was　fortunate。　　Amid　so　many　people；　and　so　much　ferment　it　was　not　at　all　likely　that　he　would　be　noticed　closely。　　It　was　his　intention；　if　the　necessity　came；　to　pass　himself　off　as　a　warrior　of　the　Shawnee　tribe　who　had　wandered　far　eastward；　but　he　meant　to　avoid　sedulously　the　eye　of　Timmendiquas；　who　might；　through　his　size　and　stature；　divine　his　identity。
  As　Henry　lingered　at　the　edge　of　the　camp；　in　indecision　whether　to　wait　a　little　or　plunge　boldly　into　the　light　of　the　fires；　he　became　aware　that　all　sounds　in　the　village…for　such　it　was　instead　of　a　camp…had　ceased　suddenly；　except　the　light　tread　of　feet　and　the　sound　of　many　people　talking　low。　　He　saw　through　the　bushes　that　all　the　Iroquois；　and　with　them　the　detachment　of　Wyandots　under　White　Lightning；　were　going　toward　a　large　structure　in　the　center；　which　he　surmised　to　be　the　Council　House。　　He　knew　from　his　experience　with　the　Indians　farther　west　that　the　Iroquois　built　such　structures。
  He　could　no　longer　doubt　that　some　ceremony　of　the　greatest　importance　was　about　to　begin；　and；　dismissing　indecision；　he　left　the　bushes　and　entered　the　village；　going　with　the　crowd　toward　the　great　pole　building；　which　was；　indeed；　the　Council　House。
  But　little　attention　was　paid