hot and dry, and for stretches David found the parched, sun-cracked margin of the stream offering better footing than the path. After an hour stream and trail both widened and bore eastward. The necessity for caution and the roughness of the path had thus far precluded speed, but now, when the brook had flowed into a second pond and emerged more worthy the name of river, David found himself able to take up the swinging trot he had learned from the savages. Unlike them, however, he could not maintain that pace for long, and soon he was obliged to fall back to a walk. During the first portion of his journey he rested frequently, throwing himself full-length on the ground and relaxing his tired body, but as time wore on his power of endurance seemed to grow rather than diminish and rest became less imperative until well toward the end. He kept eyes and ears constantly on guard, for this was a well-traveled path that he followed and at any moment he might encounter foes, and it was well that he did so, for, near midnight as he judged it to be, some sense, whether of sight or hearing he knew not, warned him of danger and he drew quickly aside into the thicket and crouched silently in the darkness. A
