There they left him, with the caution which he did not hear, being insensible, that if he ventured inside the lines he would be at once hanged.

Like a dead dog they left him on the ground.
Some hours later, in the dusk of the evening, Felix stole from the spot, skirting the forest like a wild animal afraid to venture from its cover, till he reached the track which led to Aisi.

His one idea was to reach his canoe.

He would have gone through the woods, but that was not possible.

Without axe or wood-knife to hew a way, the tangled brushwood he knew to be impassable, having observed how thick it was when coming.
Aching and trembling in every limb, not so much with physical suffering as that kind of inward fever which follows unmerited injury, the revolt of the mind against it, he followed the track as fast as his weary frame would let him.