He walked with Black Cloud to the edge of the encampment, said farewell
to the Shawnees, and then, with a great surge of joy, his resolution
came to him. It was so sudden, so transforming that the whole world
changed at once. The blood-red tint, thrown by the sunken sun, was gone
from the forest, but instead the silver sickle of the moon was rising
and shed a radiant light of hope.
He said nothing until they had gone a mile or so and then, drawing Black
Cloud aside, spoke to him words full of firmness, but not without
feeling. He made no secret of his purpose, and he said that if Black
Cloud and the others sought to stay him with force with force he would
reply. He must go, and he would go at once.
Black Cloud was silent for a while, and Henry saw the faintest quiver in
his eyes. He knew that he held a certain place in the affections of the
chief, not the place that he might hold in the regard of a white man, it
was more limited and qualified, but it was there, nevertheless.
"I am the captive of the tribe I know," said Henry. "It has made me its
son, but my white blood is not changed and I must save my people.
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