It was so dense, and there was so much undergrowth that the horsemen
could not follow him there. If they came on foot, and spread out,
as they must, to hunt him, he had the double-barreled shotgun and it
was a deadly weapon. The fox had suddenly become the panther, alert,
powerful, armed with claws that killed.
Harry went deep into the thickets before he sat down. He had no doubt
that they would follow him, but at present he was out of their sight and
hearing. He felt a mixture of elation and sadness, elation over his
temporary escape, and sadness over the loss of his gallant horse.
But one could not dwell long on regrets at such a time, and, advancing a
little farther, he sat down among the densest bushes that he could find
with the shotgun across his knees.
Now Harry saw that the horse had really done all that it was possible
for him to do. He had brought him to the wood, and within he would have
been a drawback. A man on foot could conceal himself far more easily.
Everything favored him. There were bushes and vines everywhere and he
could be hidden like a deer in its covert.
He looked up at the sun shining through the tops of the trees and saw
that he had kept to his true course. His flight had taken him directly
toward Lee at a much faster pace than he would have come otherwise.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133