Already they had been
two days in the great wilderness, now painted in gorgeous colors by the
hand of autumn, and they had not seen a sign of a human being, white or
red.
They walked steadily on, and the trained horses followed, each just
behind his master, although there was no hand upon the bridle. They
stopped presently at the low rounded crest of a hill, where the forest
opened out a little, and, as if with the same impulse, each looked off
toward the vast horizon with a glowing eye. The mighty forest, vivid
with its gleaming reds and yellows and browns, rolled away for miles,
and then died to the eye where the silky blue arch of the sky came down
to meet it. Now and then there was a flash of silver, where a brook ran
between the hills, and the wind brought an air, crisp, fresh and full of
life.
It was beautiful, this great wilderness of Kaintuckee, and each boy saw
it according to his nature. Henry, the soul of action, the boy of the
keen senses and the mighty physical nature, loved it for its own sake
and for what it was in the present. He fitted into it and was a part of
it. The towns and the old civilization in the east never called to him.
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