perhaps Black Rifle."

"It is none of those. They would advance with less noise. It is one
not so much used to the forest, but who knows the way, nevertheless,
and who doubtless has gone by this trail before."

"Then it must be a Frenchman!"

"I think so too."

"It won't be St. Luc?"

"No, Dagaeoga, though your tone showed that for a moment you hoped it
was. Sharp Sword is too skillful in the forest to walk with so heavy
a step. Nor can it be either of the leaders, De Courcelles or
Jumonville. They also are too much at home in the woods. The right
name of the man forms itself on my lips, but I will wait to be sure.
In another minute he will enter the bare space almost opposite us and
then we can see."

The three waited in silence. Although Robert had expressed doubt he
felt none. He had a supreme belief in the Onondaga's uncanny powers,
and he was quite sure that a man was moving upon the bluff. A stranger
at such a time was to be watched, because white men came but little
into this dangerous wilderness.

A dark figure appeared within the prescribed minute upon the crest and
stopped there, as if the man, whoever he might be, wished to rest and
draw fresh breath. The sky had lightened and he was outlined clearly
against it. Robert gazed intently and then he uttered a little cry.