One mile dropped behind them, then two, then three, and Henry suddenly put his hand upon the shoulder of Paul, who, understanding the signal, sank down at once beside his comrade.
The bushes were thick there, but Paul soon saw the danger, of which Henry's ear had already warned him.

A dozen warriors marched in a silent file through the undergrowth.

Well for the two that they were some distance away, and that the bushes grew thick and long! And well for them, too, that it was night! The warriors looked keenly on every side as they passed, apparently seeking out the last little leaf and twig; but, acute as were their eyes, they did not see the boys in the bushes.

And perhaps it was well for some of them that they did not find what they sought, as the wilderness furnished no more formidable antagonist than Henry Ware, and Paul Cotter, too, was both brave and skillful.
But the warriors passed, and the black wilderness hid them.

Henry watched a little bush that one had brushed against, swinging in the moonlight with short jerks that became shorter until it grew quite still again.