He saw the hardships and bareness of the wilderness but the life there appealed to him and satisfied the stronger wants of his nature; he seemed to be the reincarnation of some old forest dweller, belonging to a time thousands of years ago, yet the voice of duty, which was in this case also the voice of love, called to him, too, and now with the louder voice.

He would go, and there must be no delay in his going.
"Farewell, Black Cloud," he said with the same simplicity.

"I will think often of you who have been good to me." The chief called the other warriors and told them their comrade was going far to the south, and they might never see him again.

Their faces expressed nothing, whatever they may have felt.

Henry repeated the farewell, hesitated no longer and plunged into the forest.