He had no sense of loneliness, the forest hid no
secrets for him; this was home and he merely passed through it on a
great quest.
He looked up at the moon and stars, and confirmed himself in his course,
though he never slackened speed as he looked. He came out of the forest
upon a prairie, and here the moonlight was brighter, touching the crests
of the swells with silver spear-points. A dozen buffaloes rose up and
snorted as he flitted by, but he scarcely bestowed a passing glance upon
the black bulk of the animals. The prairie was only two or three miles
across, and at the far edge flowed a shallow creek which he crossed at
full speed, and entered the forest again. Now he came to rough country,
steep little hills, and a dense undergrowth of interlacing bushes, and
twining thorny vines. But he made his way through them in a manner that
only one forest-bred could compass, and pressed on with speed but little
slackened.
When the night became darkest, in the forest just before morning he lay
down in the deepest shadow of a thicket, his hand upon his rifle, and in
a few minutes was sleeping soundly.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247