against St. Luc in the test of words in the vale of Onondaga, and now
he felt that he must match himself anew, but in the test of forest
war.

Tayoga having lighted the fire, the hunter cooked the food over it,
while the two youths reposed calmly. Robert watched Willet with
interest, and he was impressed for the thousandth time by his great
strength, and the lightness of his movements. When he was younger, the
disparity in years had made him think of Willet as an old man, but he
saw now that he was only in early middle age. There was not a gray
hair on his head, and his face was free from wrinkles.

An extraordinarily vivid memory of that night in Quebec when the
hunter had faced Boucher, the bully and bravo, reputed the best
swordsman of France, leaped up in Robert's mind. He had found no time
to think of Willet's past recently and he realized now that he knew
little about it. The origin of that hunter was as obscure as his
own. But the story of the past and its mysteries must wait. The
present was so great and overwhelming that it blotted out everything
else.

"The venison and the bacon are ready," said Willet, "and you two lads
can fall on. You're not what I'd call epicures, but I've never known
your appetites to fail."

"Nor will they," said Robert, as he and Tayoga helped
themselves. "What's the news from Britain, Dave? You must have heard a
lot when you were in Albany."

"It's vague, Robert, vague. The English are slow, just as we Americans