He intended in the morning to renew his search, but when it came he dared not go near that fallen tree, the dumb witness and concealer of his crime. When, from afar, he saw the crows wheeling above the spot, or when at night he heard from that direction the wolf’s long howl, he shook with fear, lest they had discovered his secret and would in some way reveal it. CHAPTER XI—ESCAPE When the accidental shaking of the branch disclosed his refuge, Nathan wished he had taken the easier shelter of a hollow log or the tangle of a windfall. The more so, when he caught brief, swift flashes of the axe gleaming up through the dark foliage and felt the tree shiver at every sturdy stroke. But he had no thought of surrender. The trunk of the leaning birch, so slender that his arms and legs could clasp it, had given him access to this coign of vantage and now offered a retreat from it. Toombs was intent upon his work, with his back turned squarely toward the foot of the birch, though barely six paces from it. Escape, if at all, must be made while the chopper was on this side of the hemlock. Very cautiously he regained the birch where it hid trunk and lithe branches in the embrace of the great evergreen, and then worked downward, with an eye ever on his enemy underneath, making swiftest progress when the axe fell and its sound overbore the rustle of the birch’s shaggy, yellow mane, that his buttons scraped along. At last his toes were tickled by the topmost leaves of a low, sprangling hobble bush, then lightly touched by the last year’s fallen leaves and the soft mould. Then, as a flying chip struck him full on the cheek, he loosed his hold on the trunk and stole stealthily to the shelter of the nearest great tree. The axe strokes ceased, but a glance showed him that Toombs was only wiping his sweaty brow on his sleeve, as he looked up into the tree and addressed its supposed occupant. As the futile chopping was resumed, Nathan crept off through the undergrowth till beyond sight and hearing, when he ran upright so swiftly that he was a mile away when the roar of the tree’s fall came booming through the woods. He sat down to get his breath and determine where to go, for so far he had only thought to escape his stepfather. Should he try for the Fort? How was he to cross the lake without a boat, and, if there, on what plea that he could offer was he likely to be harbored, for Toombs was on very friendly terms with the commander! Not there could he find protection. His old friend Job was the only one to whom he could look, and in his secluded cabin he might hope to escape detection.