The Forest Runners | Page 6

we can."
He led the way with swift, light footsteps through the forest, and Paul
followed close behind, each boy carrying on his shoulder two rifles and
at his waist a double stock of bullets and powder.
Paul scarcely felt any fear now for the future. The revulsion from the
stake and torture was so great that it did not seem to him that he could
be taken again. Moreover, they had seized him the first time when he
was asleep. They had taken an unfair advantage.
The sun rose higher, gilding the brown forest with fine filmy gold, like
a veil, and the boys ran silently on among the trees and the
undergrowth. Behind them, and spread out like a fan, came many
warriors, fierce for their lives. Amid such scenes was the Great West
won.

CHAPTER II

IN THE RIVER
Paul, while not the equal of Henry in the woods, was a strong and
enduring youth. His muscles were like wire, and there were few better
runners west of the mountains. Although the weight of the second rifle
might tell after a while, he did not yet feel it, and with springy step he
sped after Henry, leaving the choice of course and all that pertained to
it to his comrade. After a while they heard a second cry--a wailing
note--and Henry raised his head a little.
"They've come to the two who fell," he said.
But after the single lament, the warriors were silent, and Paul heard
nothing more in the woods but their own light footsteps and his own
long breathing. Little birds flitted through the boughs of the trees, and
now and then a hare hopped up and ran from their path. The silence
became terrible, full of omens and presages, like the stillness before
coming thunder.
"It means something," said Henry; "I think we've stumbled into a
regular nest of those Shawnees, and they're likely to be all about us."
As if confirming his words, the far, faint note came from their right,
and then, in reply, from their left. Henry stopped so quickly that Paul
almost ran into him.
"I was afraid it would be that way," he said. "They're certainly all
around us except in front, and maybe there, too."
Visions of the torture rose before Paul again.
"What are we to do?" he said.
"We must hide."
"Hide I Why, they could find us in the forest, as I would find a man in
an open field."
"I don't mean hide here," said Henry; "the river is just ahead, and I

think that if we reach it in time we can find a place. Come, Paul, we
must run as we never ran before."
The two boys sped with long, swift bounds through the forest as only
those who run for their lives can run. Now the voices of the pursuit
became frequent, and began to multiply. Henry, with his instinctive
skill in the forest, read their meaning. The pursuers were sure of
triumph. But Henry shut his lips tightly, and resolved that he and Paul
should yet elude them.
"The river is not more than a half mile ahead," he said. "Come, Paul,
faster! A little faster, if you can!"
Paul obeyed, and the two, bending their heads lower, sped on with
astonishing speed. Trees and bushes slid behind them. Before them
appeared a blue streak, that broadened swiftly and became a river.
"We must not let them see us," said Henry. "Bend as low as you can,
and be as quiet as you can!"
Paul obeyed, and in a few more minutes they were at the river's edge.
"Fasten your bullets and powder around your neck," said Henry, "and
keep the rifle on your shoulder."
Paul did so, following Henry's quick example, and the two stepped into
the water, which soon reached to their waists. Henry had been along
this river before, and at this crisis in the lives of his comrade and
himself he remembered. Dense woods lined both banks of the stream,
which was narrow here for miles, and a year or two before a hurricane
had cut down the trees as a reaper mows the wheat. The surface of the
water was covered with fallen trunks and boughs, and for a half mile at
least they had become matted together like a great raft, out of which
grass and weeds already were growing. But Paul did not know it, and
suddenly he stopped.
"Why, what has become of the river?" he exclaimed, pointing ahead.

The stream seemed to stop against a bank of logs and foliage.
Henry laughed softly.
"It is the great natural raft," he said. "There is where we are to hide."
He hastened his steps, wading as rapidly as he could, and Paul kept by