As usual, his uncommon imagination was depicting everything in vivid colors, far in advance.
But he said nothing, nor did Henry.

They had already exhausted all subjects for talk, and they waited--Henry with real, and Paul with assumed patience.

Fully two hours passed in silence, but after that time it was naturally Paul who spoke first.
"Henry," he said in a tone that indicated unbelief in his own words, "don't you think that they must have got tired and gone away ?" "No, they are surely in the forest about us; but since they won't go, Paul, you and I must leave to-night." "What do you mean ?" Paul's words expressed the greatest surprise.
Henry stood up, and figure, face, and words alike showed the greatest decision.
"Paul," he said, "our last piece of venison will soon be gone, and the Shawnees, I think, will stay, expecting to starve us out, which they can do; but the night shows all the signs of being very dark, and you and I must slip through their lines some way or other.

Are you ready to try it ?" It was like a signal to Paul, those words, "Are you ready to try it ?" He was ready to try anything now, as a release from the cabin, and a fine flare of color mounted to his cheeks as he replied: "I'll follow you anywhere, Henry." Henry said nothing more; Paul's reply was sufficient; but he resumed his position at the loophole, and attentively watched the heavens.

Somber clouds were rolling up from the southwest and the air was growing cooler, but heavy with damp.