"I have forgotten it," said Robert lightly. "I knew that a French
gentleman could not take the word of a wild Ojibway against ours."

De Courcelles gave him a sharp glance, but the youth's face was a mask.

"At least," he said, "the matter is not one of which I could dispose.
Nor can any government take note of everything that passes in a vast
wilderness. I, too, shall forget it. Nor is it likely that it will ever
be taken before the Marquis Duquesne. Come, our breakfast will soon be
ready and your comrades are awakening."

Robert walked down to a small brook, bathed his face, and returned to
find the food ready. He did not wholly trust either de Courcelles or
Jumonville, but their manners were good, and it was quite evident that
they no longer wished to interfere with the progress of the mission.
Tayoga and Willet also seemed to have forgotten the episode of the night
before, and asked no questions about Tandakora. After breakfast, the
three put their canoe back in the river, and thanking their hosts for
the courtesy of a night in their camp, shot out into the stream. De
Courcelles and Jumonville, standing on the bank, waved them farewell,
and they held their paddles aloft a moment or two in salute. Then a bend
shut them from view.

"I don't trust them," said Robert, after a long silence. "This is our
soil, but they march over it and calmly assume that it's their own."

"King George claims it, and King Louis claims it, too," said Willet in a
whimsical tone, "but I'm thinking it belongs to neither. The ownership,
I dare say, will not be decided for many a year. Now, Tayoga, what do
you think has become of that demon, Tandakora?"