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.