That　night　he　had　a　slight　touch　of　frenzy；　and　began　to　laugh　at　himself。　　It　was　a　huge　joke！　　What　would　Timmendiquas　or　Thayendanegea　think　of　him　if　they　knew　how　he　came　to　his　end？　　They　would　put　him　with　old　squaws　or　little　children。　　And　how　Braxton　Wyatt　and　his　lieutenant；　the　squat　Tory；　would　laugh！　　That　was　the　bitterest　thought　of　all。　　But　the　frenzy　passed；　and　he　fell　into　a　sleep　which　was　only　a　succession　of　bad　dreams。　　He　was　running　the　gauntlet　again　among　the　Shawnees。　　Again；　kneeling　to　drink　at　the　clear　pool；　he　saw　in　the　water　the　shadow　of　the　triumphant　warrior　holding　the　tomahawk　above　him。　　One　after　another　the　most　critical　periods　of　his　life　were　lived　over　again；　and　then　he　sank　into　a　deep　torpor；　from　which　he　did　not　rouse　himself　until　far　into　the　next　day。
  Henry　was　conscious　that　he　was　very　weak；　but　he　seemed　to　have　regained　much　of　his　lost　will。　　He　looked　once　more　at　the　fatal　left　ankle。　　It　had　improved　greatly。　　He　could　even　stand　upon　it；　but　when　he　rose　to　his　feet　he　felt　a　singular　dizziness。　　Again；　what　he　had　gained　in　one　way　he　had　lost　in　another。　　The　earth　wavered。　　The　smooth　surface　of　the　lake　seemed　to　rise　swiftly；　and　then　to　sink　as　swiftly。　　The　far　slope　down　which　he　had　shot　rose　to　the　height　of　miles。　　There　was　a　pale　tinge；　too；　over　the　world。　　He　sank　down；　not　because　of　his　ankle；　but　because　he　was　afraid　his　dizzy　head　would　make　him　fall。
  The　power　of　will　slipped　away　again　for　a　minute　or　two。　　He　was　ashamed　of　such　extraordinary　weakness。　　He　looked　at　one　of　his　hands。　　It　was　thin；　like　the　band　of　a　man　wasted　with　fever；　and　the　blue　veins　stood　out　on　the　back　of　it。　　He　could　scarcely　believe　that　the　hand　was　his　own。　　But　after　the　first　spasm　of　weakness　was　over；　the　precious　will　returned。　　He　could　walk。　　Strength　enough　to　permit　him　to　hobble　along　had　returned　to　the　ankle　at　last；　and　mind　must　control　the　rest　of　his　nervous　system；　however　weakened　it　might　be。　　He　must　seek　food。
  He　withdrew　into　the　farthest　recess　of　his　covert；　wrapped　the　blanket　tightly　about　his　body；　and　lay　still　for　a　long　time。　　He　was　preparing　both　mind　and　body　for　the　supreme　effort。　　He　knew　that　everything　hung　now　on　the　surviving　remnants　of　his　skill　and　courage。
  Weakened　by　shock　and　several　days　of　fasting；　he　had　no　great　reserve　now　except　the　mental；　and　he　used　that　to　the　utmost。　　It　was　proof　of　his　youthful　greatness　that　it　stood　the　last　test。　　As　he　lay　there；　the　final　ounce　of　will　and　courage　came。　　Strength　which　was　of　the　mind　rather　than　of　the　body　flowed　back　into　his　veins；　he　felt　able　to　dare　and　to　do；　the　pale　aspect　of　the　world　went　away；　and　once　more　he　was　Henry　Ware；　alert；　skillful；　and　always　triumphant。
  Then　he　rose　again；　folded　the　blanket；　and　fastened　it　on　his　shoulders。　　He　looked　at　the　snowshoes；　but　decided　that　his　left　ankle；　despite　its　great　improvement；　would　not　stand　the　strain。　　He　must　break　his　way　through　the　snow；　which　was　a　full　three　feet　in　depth。　　Fortunately　the　crust　had　softened　somewhat　in　the　last　two　or　three　days；　and　he　did　not　have　a　covering　of　ice　to　meet。
  He　pushed　his　way　for　the　first　time　from　the　lair　under　the　cliff；　his　rifle　held　in　his　ready　hands；　in　order　that　he　might　miss　no　chance　at　game。　　To　an　ordinary　observer　there　would　have　been　no　such　chance　at　all。　　It　was　merely　a　grim　white　wilderness　that　might　have　been　without　anything　living　from　the　beginning。　　But　Henry；　the　forest　runner；　knew　better。　　Somewhere　in　the　snow　were　lairs　much　like　the　one　that　he　had　left；　and　in　these　lairs　were　wild　animals。　　To　any　such　wild　animal；　whether　panther　or　bear；　the　hunter　would　now　have　been　a　fearsome　object；　with　his　hollow　cheeks；　his　sunken　fiery　eyes；　and　his　thin　lips　opening　now　and　then；　and　disclosing　the　two　rows　of　strong　white　teeth。
  Henry　advanced　about　a　rod；　and　then　he　stopped；　breathing　hard；　because　it　was　desperate　work　for　one　in　his　condition　to　break　his　way　through　snow　so　deep。　　But　his　ankle　stood　the　strain　well；　and　his　courage　increased　rather　than　diminished。　　He　was　no　longer　a　cripple　confined　to　one　spot。　　While　be　stood　resting；　he　noticed　a　clump　of　bushes　about　half　a　rod　to　his　left；　and　a　hopeful　idea　came　to　him。
  He　broke　his　way　slowly　to　the　bushes；　and　then　he　searched　carefully　among　them。　　The　snow　was　not　nearly　so　thick　there；　and　under　the　thickest　clump；　where　the　shelter　was　best；　he　saw　a　small　round　opening。　　In　an　instant　all　his　old　vigorous　life；　all　the　abounding　hope　which　was　such　a　strong　characteristic　of　his　nature；　came　back　to　him。　　Already　he　had　triumphed　over　Indians；　Tories；　the　mighty　slope；　snow；　ice；　crippling；　and　starvation。
  He　laid　the　rifle　on　the　snow　and　took　the　ramrod　in　his　right　hand。　　He　thrust　his　left　hand　into　the　hole；　and　when　the　rabbit　leaped　for　life　from　his　warm　nest　a　smart　blow　of　the　ramrod　stretched　him　dead　at　the　feet　of　the　hunter。　　Henry　picked　up　the　rabbit。　　It　was　large　and　yet　fat。　　Here　was　food　for　two　meals。　　In　the　race　between　the　ankle　and　starvation；　the　ankle　had　won。
  He　did　not　give　way　to　any　unseemly　elation。　　He　even　felt　a　momentary　sorrow　that　a　life　must　perish　to　save　his　own；　because　all　these　wild　things　were　his　kindred　now。　　He　returned　by　the　path　that　he　had　broken；　kindled　his　fire　anew；　dexterously　skinned　and　cleaned　his　rabbit；　then　cooked　it　and　ate　half；　although　he　ate　slowly　and　with　intervals　between　each　piece。　　How　delicious　it　tasted；　and　how　his　physical　being　longed　to　leap　upon　it　and　devour　it；　but　the　power　of　the　mind　was　still　supreme。　　He　knew　what　was　good　for　himself；　and　he　did　it。　　Everything　was　done　in　order　and　with　sobriety。　　Then　he　put　the　rest　of　the　rabbit　carefully　in　his　food　pouch；　wrapped　the　blanket　about　his　body；　leaned　back；　and　stretched　his　feet　to　the　coals。
  What　an　extraordinary　change　had　come　over　the　world　in　an　hour！　　He　had　not　noticed　before　the　great　beauty　of　the　lake；　the　lofty　cliffs　on　the　farther　shore；　and　the　forest　clothed　in　white　and　hanging　with　icicles。
  The　winter　sunshine　was　molten　silver；　pouring　down　in　a　flood。
  It　was　not　will　now；　but　actuality；　that　made　him　feel　the　strength　returning　to　his　frame。　　He　knew　that　the　blood　in　his　veins　had　begun　to　sparkle；　and　that　his　vitality　was　rising　fast。　　He　could　have　gone　to　sleep　peacefully；　but　instead　he　went　forth　and　hunted　again。　　He　knew　that　where　the　rabbit　had　been；　others　were　likely　to　be　near；　and　before　he　returned　he　had　secured　two　more。　　Both　of　these　he　cleaned　and　cooked　at　once。　　When　this　was　done　night　had　come；　but　he　ate　again；　and　then；　securing　all　his　treasures　about　him；　fell　into　the　best　sleep　that　he　had　enjoyed　since　his　flight。
  He　felt　very　strong　the　next　morning；　and　he　might　have　started　then；　but　he　was　prudent。　　There　was　still　a　chance　of　meeting　the　Iroquois；　and　the　ankle　might　not　stand　so　severe　a　test。　　He　would　rest　in　his　nest　for　another　day；　and　then　he　would　be　equal　to　anything。　　Few　could　lie　a　whole　day　in　one　place　with　but　little　to　do　and　with　nothing　passing　before　the　eyes；　but　it　was　a　part　of　Henry's　wilderness　training；　and　he　showed　all　the　patience　of　the　forester。　　He　knew；　too；　as　the　hours　went　by；　that　his　strength　was　rising　all　the　while。　　To…morrow　almost　the　last　soreness　would　be　gone　from　his　ankle　and　then　he　could　glide　swiftly　over　the　snow；　back　to　his　comrades。　　He　was　content。　　He　had；　in　fact；　a　sense　of　great　triumph　because　he　had　overcome　so　much；　and　here　was　new　food　in　this　example　for　future　efforts　of　the　mind；　for　future　victories　of　the　will　over　the　body。　　The　wintry　sun　came　to　the　zenith；　then　passed　slowly　down　the　curve；　but　all　the　time　the　boy　scarcely　stirred。　　Once　there　was　a　flight　of　small　birds　across　the　heavens；　and　he　watched　them　vaguely；　but　apparently　he　took　no　interest。　　Toward　night　he　stood　up　in　his　recess　and　flexed　and　tuned　his　muscles　for　a　long　time；　driving　out　any　stiffness　that　might　come　through　long　lack　of　motion。　　Then　he　ate　and　lay　down；　but　he　did　not　yet　sleep。
  The　night　was　clear；　and　he　looked　away　toward　the　point　where　he　knew　〃The　Alcove〃　lay。　　A　good　moon　was　now　shining；　and　stars　by　the　score　were　springing　out。　　Suddenly　at　a　point　on　that　far　shore　a　spark　of　red　light　appeared　and　twinkled。　　Most　persons　would　have　taken　it　for　some　low　star；　but　Henry　knew　better。　　It　was　fire　put　there　by　human　hand　for　a　purpose；　doubtless　a　signal；　and　as　he　looked　a　second　spark　appeared　by　the　first；　then　a　third；　then　a　fourth。　　He　uttered　a　great　sigh　of　pleasure。　　It　was　his　four　friends　signaling　to　him　somewhere　in　the　vast　unknown　that　they　were　alive　and　well；　and　beckoning　him　to　come。　　The　lights　burned　for　fifteen　or　twenty　minutes；　and　then　all　went　out　together。　　Henry　turned　over　on　his　side　and　fell　sound　asleep。　　In　the　morning　he　put　on　his　snowshoes　and　started。
  CHAPTER　XIX
  THE　SAFE　RETURN
  The　surface　of　the　snow　had　frozen　again　in　the　night；　and　Henry　found　good　footing　for　his　shoes。　　For　a　while　he　leaned　most　on　the　right　ankle；　but；　as　his　left　developed　no　signs　of　soreness；　he　used　them　equally；　and　spe