It was the most splendid type of white life in all the wilderness that fled, and the finest type of red life that followed.
It was impossible for Henry to feel anger or hate toward Timmendiquas.
In his place he would have done what he was doing.

It was hard to give up these great woods and beautiful lakes and rivers, and the wild life that wild men lived and loved.

There was so much chivalry in the boy's nature that he could think of all these things while he fled to escape the tomahawk or the stake.
Up came the sun.

The gray light turned to silver, and then to red and blazing gold.

A long, swelling note, the triumphant cry of the pursuing warriors, rose behind him.