Perhaps the warrior thought he had been deceived; it was merely an illusion of the night that he thought he saw; or if he had seen anyone the man was now gone, creeping away through the undergrowth.

He stirred among his own bushes, raised up a little to see, and gave his enemy a passing glimpse of his face.

But it was enough; a rifle bullet struck him between the eyes and the wilderness fighter lay dead in the forest.
Henry bestowed not a thought on the slain warrior, but, lifting up Paul once more, continued on his wide curve, as if nothing had happened.

No one interrupted him again, and after a while he was parallel with the line of fire.

Then he passed around it and came to rocky ground, where he laid Paul down and chafed his hands and face.