He knew that he was wanted out there in the woods.

He began to hate the sight of human faces, he wished to go alone into the wilderness, to see the deer steal among the trees and to hear the beaver dive into the deep waters.
He felt himself a part of nature and he would breathe and live as nature did.
He grew lax in his tasks; he dragged his feet and there were even times when he was not hungry.

When his mother noticed the latter circumstance she knew surely that the boy was ill, but her husband shrewdly said: "Henry, the spring has come; take your rifle and bring us some fresh venison." So Henry shouldered his rifle and went forth alone upon the quest, even leaving behind Paul, his chosen comrade.

He did not wish human companionship that day, nor did he stop until he was deep in the wilderness.

How he felt then the glory of living! The blood was flushing in his veins as the sap was rising in the trees around him.